


Ordinary Life

by Aviantei



Category: Ao no Exorcist | Blue Exorcist
Genre: Action & Romance, Drama, Friendship, Mephisto has a kid and it's as much as a disaster as you think it would be, Multi, Nonbinary Character, OC/? - Freeform, Slow Build, following the manga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2020-11-09 11:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 50,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20852402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviantei/pseuds/Aviantei
Summary: I'll admit that I'm terribly jealous. You see, you have a sense of normalcy, a world that doesn't change. A perfectly simple, ordinary life. I really don't think that's something I was ever meant to have. [OCx?]





	1. Forward

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfiction was originally posted on fanfiction.net on August 13, 2014 and it is still ongoing. I wanted to write an OC that was Mephisto's kid, so this is what we've got. 
> 
> I try to pretend that I know who's getting shipped with who but I'm honestly clueless.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Forward

* * *

_Speak of the devil and he will appear. _I guess we’re just all lucky that isn’t true.

Okay, okay, I _know_ that was stupid, I just… I’m really no good at this sort of stuff. Sure, I love stories in every conceivable form, but I’ve never been any good at writing them down. I guess if someone else scripted the whole thing out, I could _draw_ it, but I don’t exactly have the time for that. It was better to just let Yori-sensei handle the whole thing and leave it at that.

Except Yori-sensei insisted that I did some sort of prologue note so that people would understand that this request came from me… Though I find that kind of silly since you’re just going to think I’m a fictional character and this is some sort of super-meta technique.

Fine, think what you want. I believe in letting the reader make decisions about what they’re reading. It’s not my job to tell you how to take this.

Putting that aside, I guess I should talk about this story for a bit, huh? The truth is, I’ve been running around, having no idea of how to start this thing for ages. I mean, there were just too many important points to deal with. Did I start from high school, where his story did? How about middle school? Or maybe all the way back from the beginning, when I was a little brat?

I couldn’t decide. I could never decide. So I just did a bunch of base recordings and let Yori-sensei decide for me. I told the others, asked them to give some input. And after a lot of time and effort on Yori-sensei’s part, we ended up with this.

Let me tell you something. This world isn’t as peaceful as you think. Some of you may have encountered this before, have firsthand experience. Others of you are clueless. Some of you might come around, and others will remain skeptic. After all, it’s just a book to you.

But like I said that’s fine. If that’s the case, I’ll admit that I’m terribly jealous. You see, you have a sense of normalcy, a world that doesn’t change.

A perfectly simple, ordinary life.

I really don’t think that’s something I was ever meant to have.


	2. Chapter One

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter One

* * *

“How is she doing?” Mephisto asked, standing behind his best friend. Father Fujimoto Shiro didn’t look back, focusing his attention on the sleeping girl in front of them. She had traces of scrapes and bruises, but they would heal soon enough with her powers. Mephisto was more concerned about things aside from physical wounds.

“It’s hard to tell because she’s unconscious, but at least she’s not in shock. We’ll have to wait and see,” Shiro reported, pushing up his glasses. He frowned, directing the expression at Mephisto. “I am sorry I wasn’t there to stop this, but you should have put your foot down, Mephisto. No child deserves to go through this, even if she is a half-demon.”

Mephisto didn’t bother to repress his snicker. He did, however, make sure to contain his outburst before it became a full-out laugh. It wouldn’t do any good to wake his daughter up when she deserved a rest. “You become more and more like a father every day, Shiro-kun. At this rate, I may win our little wager.”

“I could say the same for you,” Shiro retorted. He took a few steps away, cracking the room’s solitary window open before he went to light up his cigarette. He took a drag, the smoke getting sucked out by the breeze. “I really don’t understand what you were thinking, though. If you weren’t careful, Whiskey-chan could have been killed.”

Mephisto shook his head and grinned, showing off the pointed ends of his teeth. “My Whiskey-chan is far more resilient than that. They wanted to test her, so I let them. Not only do they have no choice but to accept her with your blessing, but I know for a fact that some of them feel bad. They’ll be indebted to her.”

Shiro scoffed. “You’re telling me you actually planned all of this?”

“Not all of it. I simply took advantage of the situation when it arose.”

On the other side of the room, Whiskey made a small noise as she rolled over. Both men watched her face intently, searching for any traces of a nightmare. Mephisto didn’t even bother to cover up his concern. Shiro already knew that the demon cared for his daughter, so there was no need to pretend like he didn’t. The past month had been enough of that particular façade anyway.

“You should at least tell me what you’re planning,” Shiro said. Mephisto raised both eyebrows in exaggerated surprise. “I did just save you on this one, Mephisto. The least you can do is tell me why all of this was necessary.”

Mephisto considered it for a few moments. He had planned to tell Shiro, but not this soon. In fact, he had even been hoping that Shiro wouldn’t catch on for at least a few more years, maybe even until the youngest brat finished up his exorcist training.

Now, with Shiro sounding almost distrusting for the first time in years, it appeared that he had no other choice.

“You wound me, Shiro-kun,” Mephisto said, hiding what little dissatisfaction he had behind cheerfulness. He swept off his hat, holding it over his chest, above his heart. “This is only a one-time endeavor. My darling Whiskey just hasn’t had any time in combat. I wanted to ease her into it, but this arrived instead. She’s young. It would be better that she understands how cruel the world can be early on.”

Shiro frowned, only dropping the expression to exhale his cigarette smoke. “I’ll never understand demon methods of rearing children,” he said, almost sounding bitter.

This time, Mephisto did laugh—a full blown guffaw even—although he did keep it short. “I think you understand better than anyone, with those twins of yours. Besides, the youngest one’s already training to become an exorcist, I hear?” Mephisto returned his hat to its proper place, grinning. “I think that’s almost crueler than what just happened with Whiskey-chan.”

“You might be right there.” Shiro grimaced a bit, but he didn’t seem angry anymore. “So then you don’t intend for her to become an exorcist? That’s a bit of a waste with the talent I heard her showing off, even if she is a bit more in tune with her demon side than other mixed-blood exorcists I’ve seen.” The Paladin paused, then his face broke out into a grin. “I’ll contribute that to her parenting.”

“I’ve only been teaching her proper demon and human etiquette, in case of emergencies. Though I do wish she would listen to me when I tell her that she should hide her tail, it’s unfitting of a lady…” Almost to taunt him, Whiskey’s tail flicked up into the air before wrapping around the small girl’s stomach. Mephisto sighed. “Putting that aside, she’ll become an exorcist if she wants to. Daresay she may jump at the chance. She’s already read and watched most of my anime and manga collection.”

Shiro snorted. “Like daughter, like father, huh?”

And it was true. There were moments where Whiskey was a smaller version of her father, albeit with less knowledge of the world. That would be fixed in time, however; there was no need to rush.

“But in all seriousness, it would be best if she did become an exorcist,” Mephisto added.

Shiro looked his friend in the eye, tossing his cigarette out the window without a second thought. “So you are planning something. Don’t leave me in suspense.”

It would have been easy to lie, but there was no need to. Regardless of his position, Shiro wouldn’t make a big issue about anything Mephisto was planning. No, the Paladin would handle the matter personally, avoiding the consequences of a scandal.

Mephisto walked back to the bed where Whiskey was sleeping, placing a gentle hand in her hair. “Simply put, I intend to make her indispensable to the wellbeing of the Order.”

* * *

Whiskey Pheles exhaled, wiping the sweat off her brow and looking over the dorm room once more. They had just moved everything in today, but most of the work on unpacking boxes and putting things away fell onto Whiskey. It wasn’t like the other two weren’t willing to help, but Mocha would only get too excited and get in the way, and Ruma would give up way too quickly, only lounging around instead of unpacking.

Really, sending them out to grab some takeout for dinner had been the best bet. Whiskey had even paid them to do it.

She took a deep breath, trying to slow down her heartbeat. It was her first time living in a dorm, and the same applied to Ruma. Mocha was the exception. However, Whiskey was probably the only nervous one. Even if all of the True Cross schools offered dorms, this had been the first time Whiskey had decided to try it. After all, this was the first year she had found people that she was close enough to that could make her willing enough to share a room with them.

_Ruma. Mocha-chan. My friends…_

Whiskey smiled a bit. It was silly to bother paying for dorm services whenever she lived practically on top of the school. Even so, her father had encouraged her, saying that something like cost didn’t even matter. She wondered if any of the three of them were paying their fees at all at this rate.

Living on her own shouldn’t have been a problem. She was a high schooler, and there would only be three more years until she was considered an adult. She was going to have to get used to the idea sooner or later. And even if things went wrong, it wasn’t like going home would be a hassle.

Her hand went to the magic key in her pocket, and the touch of metal made her relax instantly. It had been the first magic key she had ever been given, all the way back in elementary school. It had always worked back then, and it always would. Home was only a doorway and a keyhole away. There was nothing to worry about.

Whiskey smiled.

_I am going to have to stop using a key like a security blanket, though…_

She pulled the key out of her pocket, a second one following it. While the key to the Pheles mansion was covered in dings and scratches from years of use, the Exorcist Cram School key was new, bright and shiny. Unlike Whiskey’s house key, this one was going to be used almost every day. It probably wouldn’t be long until the two keys were almost identical.

_It’s not like I need the house key on me at all times, either,_ she considered. _I probably could just leave it in the dorm room for emergencies. It’s not like I can’t walk up to the house if Vatti wants to see me…_ Whiskey pulled open her desk drawers, searching for a place. Everything was already lined up neatly, and adding something else would be a pain, finding an unassigned place almost impossible. _Not yet. Maybe I can just keep it on me for just a bit longer._

She looked at the key again, then at the dormitory’s door. It would be easy to go home, maybe pick up a few volumes of manga off the shelves to read, then head back before Ruma and Mocha returned with whatever food they had selected for dinner. Although, she’d probably lose track of time and end up reading into the night instead.

It was tempting.

Whiskey stepped into the hallway, shoving the Cram School key into the lock instead. Before she could change her mind, the girl stepped through the door, ending up in the immaculate hallways of the Cram School that existed somewhere on campus. It wasn’t the first time Whiskey had been there, but it was the first time she had used her own key to do it.

And tomorrow, she would start her formal exorcist training.

Whiskey wandered down the halls, looking for which classroom would be hers. Some of the other classes had different rooms—Mephisto had based the schedules and practices off of European schools, go figure—but there was still a home room that she would spend most of her time in, alongside her fellow classmates.

One of the doors was propped open, and the lights were on. Whiskey peeked her head inside, hoping to find someone to at least point her in the right direction. And sure enough, there was a figure in an exorcist jacket organizing a stack of resources in the back corner.

“Yukio-kun,” Whiskey said, and the boy in question stood up. He looked tired, the rims of his glasses just barely covering the bags beneath his eyes, but he still managed to smile anyway.

“Pheles-san, how are you?” Yukio asked. Whiskey wondered how much he really cared and how much he was being polite. “Well, since you’re here, this is the classroom we’ll be using or tomorrow’s first class and Spirit Wound ritual.”

Whiskey scowled, though it was more playful than taunting. “Come on, Yukio-kun, we’ve known each other for a few years, no need to be so formal.” She smiled a bit though. At least her guess had been right. “Although, I guess I should call you ‘Sensei’ now, since you _are_ my teacher starting tomorrow… Well, at least I know that I’ll be in good hands. I expect top-notch training to become a Doctor, alright?”

Yukio adjusted his glasses as if the words were a challenge. “My training is only as good as the effort that the students put into it, Pheles-san. If you want to pursue Doctor as your Meister, you need to take your studies seriously.”

“Well, I knew that, so I’ve been prepared for a while.” Whiskey felt her smile drop a little. Yukio sounded mostly confident, but it wasn’t entirely convincing. “Yukio-kun, you didn’t go to Shiro-kun’s funeral?”

The words hung over the room, looming like the clouds that had been dumping down rain on the graveyard earlier. Whiskey had gone, but she hadn’t stayed for long afterwards. Mocha and Ruma had been sending a torrent of messages to her phone, and her father had needed to tend to official Order business and had sent her home.

But Yukio was Shiro’s son. Whiskey had expected him to stay for at least a bit longer, not go straight back to work.

Yukio frowned. It wasn’t an uncommon expression on his face, but Whiskey still didn’t like it. She had never seen the young exorcist lose his cool, but there was always a first time for everything. Yukio sighed. “Father Fujimoto wouldn’t have wanted me to lose sight of my duties, even if he was gone,” he said. “He would want me to carry on and pursue my goals.”

This time, Whiskey frowned. “He also wouldn’t want you to bottle everything up,” she retorted. “If you feel sad, then you should let yourself feel sad for a while.” Yukio continued to stare at her, his eyes hard. “You’re not the only person who cared about Shiro-kun, Yukio. I may not have been hit as hard by the loss, but you can still talk to me if you need it.”

“It’s inappropriate for a teacher to place his burdens on his students.” It figured that Yukio would come up with an excuse like that. It figured that he could come up with it in less than a second.

Whiskey put a hand on her hip. “Yeah, well, you’re not my teacher yet, _Sensei_, so why don’t you stop worrying about it.” She lightened up the tone of her voice. “Besides, we’re also classmates and comrades at the same time. And beyond that, we’ve been friends for a few years. There’s no need to be so formal when it comes to me.”

Yukio paused. He turned his head down to the materials he was organizing, probably on purpose. Whiskey let him have his moment, let him sit in silence and consider.

“I’ll think about it,” he finally said.

Whiskey nodded, smiling again. “That’s better,” she said, patting the boy’s shoulder. “You have my number, so just contact me whenever. Things may get a little bit busy with school, but being there whenever someone really needs me is a bit more important, don’t you think?”

_Toki wo koete Ima kimi ni ai ni kita   
Uwattsura wo zuruzuru—_

Whiskey held up a hand in apology as she picked up her phone. Yukio nodded in understanding.

“_Whiskey-chaaaan, where are you?!_” the voice on the other end whined. Whiskey didn’t even get a chance to greet them properly. “_We brought back all sorts of tasty food for you, and you’re not even here! If you don’t hurry back, Ruma-chan says she’s gonna eat it all. Isn’t that right, Ruma-chan?_”

There was a muffled response on the other end that sounded a lot like an affirmative mixed with food being chewed.

“Alright, alright, I’ll be headed back soon, I didn’t go far,” Whiskey said.

“_See you soon, Whiskey-chan!_”

“Yeah, I’ll see ya.” Whiskey hung up and sent an apologetic smile in Yukio’s direction. “Sorry, it seems like I need to head home before there isn’t any food left for me. But I really meant everything I said, Yukio-kun. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Yukio smiled. It was forced. Whiskey could see it, even if he was trying to hide it. Her nose twitched in annoyance. “I’ll keep that in mind. But if your dinner is at risk, you should head back. I may be mistaken, but it sounds like your friends need you right now. Don’t let me hold you back.”

Whiskey reached out a hand, ruffling the boy’s hair just because she knew it annoyed him. “Don’t talk like that. You’re my friend, too,” she said. Yukio stared, his lips parted slightly. “See you at the opening ceremonies!”

* * *

The smell of food hit her the instant she went back through the door. They had gotten Chinese, and several cartons were opened already, their contents partially gorged. Whiskey sat down and took the plate that Mocha offered her, capturing what she could before Ruma’s chopsticks got in the way.

“Welcome back, Whiskey-chan, did you have a nice walk?” Mocha asked, picking away at her own food. She was eating much slower than Ruma, who seemed to be holding true on her promise to eat everything.

“Yeah, it was okay,” Whiskey said. She tried to keep her tail from fidgeting, but it wasn’t much use. Yukio was pleasant, but he somehow managed to annoy her at times. Mocha only stared, not having to say anything else. “Okay, fine, I ran into one of our Cram School teachers that’s a friend of mine and he got on my nerves.”

Mocha giggled. “Oh, that’s unusual. You’re going to be okay by tomorrow, aren’t you? It would be fun to see Whiskey lose her cool again, but I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble on your first day.”

“What’s it matter?” Ruma asked, her words partially muffled by the food in her mouth. She swallowed, and bits of rice mixed in with the freckles on her cheeks. “Her dad owns this entire place, so it’s not like they would expel her or anything.”

Whiskey frowned. “You know I consider that kind of thing cheating, right?” Ruma shrugged. “I’m going to do this all on my own. I don’t need Vati’s help to become an exorcist or anything else. If I screw up, I’ll take responsibility for it.”

“I’m just saying not to waste a good thing.” Ruma swiped several dumplings and Whiskey had to resist the urge to take more before they were gone. It would throw off her plate balance. “Besides, Mocha and I both know you can do it, Whiskey. You don’t need to be so dramatic about it.”

Mocha nodded, the force sending her pigtails flying. “That’s right! Whiskey-chan’s gonna be an amazing exorcist someday and nothing’s going to stop her!” she agreed. “We’ll be here if you need us, so we’ll keep you in line with this teacher tomorrow! …Oh, what’s your problem with him anyway, Whiskey-chan?”

Whiskey contemplated the question while she chewed her food. Mocha waited, but she had started to bounce a bit, and the soup in her hands looked on the verge of spilling. Whiskey was good at cleaning, but that didn’t mean she enjoyed trying to get soup stains out of wood.

She swallowed.

“I don’t know…” she admitted. “I guess maybe he reminds me a bit too much of me? Like he tries to take everything on by himself and doesn’t let people help him, I guess.” Mocha tilted her head and even Ruma could be bothered to look up in curiosity. “In the end, I think he needs a friend, but I don’t think he’s going to let me do it.”

Ruma snorted. “Only you could get annoyed by someone not wanting to be your friend, Whiskey,” she said. Whiskey frowned.

“That’s okay, Whiskey-chan, I’m sure he’ll come around in time!” Mocha cheered. She winked, pointing her spoon in her friend’s direction. Whiskey’s instincts told her to chide Mocha for her poor dining manners, but she decided to let it slide. “Oh, I know! If he’s putting up his defenses against you, then he’ll never suspect it if he gets a surprise friendship sneak attack from someone else. I volunteer! Ruma-chan, you should help, too!”

“I’ll think about it,” Ruma allowed. She didn’t seem very enthused, but Mocha had enough enthusiasm for the endeavor that covered all three of them. Hell, it probably covered Yukio’s part of the bill, too, even if he wasn’t there.

Whiskey smiled a little. It was crazy, but Mocha’s ideas always on friendship always seemed to work out in the end. “Alright,” she said, “I’ll introduce you to him tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whiskey's ringtone this chapter is "Cloud Rider" by Hayato Tanaka and Su Jane and performed by IA.


	3. Chapter Two

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Two

* * *

Yukio’s entrance ceremony speech, as expected, was phenomenal. It should have been obvious that he was going to put his all into it, but Whiskey was still stunned. He had taken on the roles of the freshman class representative, an exorcist, a Cram School teacher, and he had just lost his father. Somehow, Yukio had still managed to pull off his speech like it was natural, and he even had girls in the audience fawning over him.

Whiskey ground her teeth together, the points of her incisors starting to dig into her lip. For some reason, seeing that he was doing alright just served to annoy her more. The only saving grace was that his shoulders were still tensed up even as he left the stage, meaning he wasn’t as calm as he let everyone think he was.

“Hey,” Ruma whispered, completely ignoring the rest of the entrance ceremony. Some of the students sent glares in the redhead’s direction for talking, but she ignored them. “Whiskey, didn’t you say that guy’s name was Okumura? The one you were pissed at.”

Mocha caught onto the conversation thread, her eyes sparkling. “Whoa, Whiskey-chan, you’re friends with the student representative?” she whispered as well, leaning forward in her seat to see around Ruma. “That’s so cool! Why didn’t you say anything?”

The students stood up, signaling the end of the assembly. Whiskey blinked, having been distracted by her friends to not hear the call to dismissal. The student body made their way out of the room, and Whiskey fell into step with them. “I didn’t really consider it important,” she said. “I mean, sure, he got the top grade on the entrance exam, but does that really contribute to your view of him as a person?”

“Ugh, no need to get philosophical,” Ruma grumbled, bringing a hand to her forehead. Mocha pouted a little, but didn’t protest. “So are we gonna meet with this guy? Cause I’d like to enjoy my last afternoon without classes with a nice nap if we’re not.”

“Yeah, Whiskey-chan, what’s the deal?”

Mocha’s shout drew a few looks in the trio’s direction, and several eyebrows were raised. Whiskey blushed a bit, cursing the heat in her cheeks. “You guys do remember that I’m supposed to be ‘Margeret’ when we’re at school right?” she said, a dangerous tone slipping into her voice.

“Oh yeah…” Ruma mused and nervous laugh escaped Mocha’s mouth. “It just makes you sound like such a dork, though. No wonder I picked on you.”

“Yeah, Whiskey-chan is Whiskey-chan,” Mocha agreed. “How’d you get stuck with a name like that anyway? I never did ask.”

Whiskey sighed. She didn’t really like it, but ‘Margeret Faust’ was the name she was stuck with when it came to interacting with the ordinary world. It had its benefits—like avoiding assumptions at her true given name and associating her with her father’s own alias of ‘Johan Faust’—but it also had its downsides. Whenever someone called her it, Whiskey felt like someone was forcing a second skin on her, one that didn’t let her breathe.

“It was the name Mutti wanted to give me,” Whiskey said and left it at that. Ruma and Mocha didn’t pursue the issue. Even though their collective friendship hadn’t come to fruition until not even a year ago, they still knew better than to talk about her mother. Whiskey took a deep breath and smiled, turning back to her two friends. “Now, if you just give me a minute, I’m going to hunt down Yukio-kun and force him to make some friends.”

“Good luck, Whiskey-chan,” Mocha encouraged, completely ignoring the request to use Whiskey’s alias in public. For some reason, it didn’t really bother the half-demon much—that was just how Mocha was. Ruma only nodded her understanding, and the duo split off into the crowd.

Whiskey focused back onto the dispersing students. Everyone was chattering, and the snippets of conversation Whiskey picked up on indicated that most people were grateful for their last day off. If she didn’t act quick, Yukio would find some doorway to slip away to, and it would be impossible to convince him to socialize in favor of work.

Trying not to look too suspicious, she sniffed the air. The student body was overwhelming, but eventually her enhanced sense of smell was able to pick Yukio out amongst the crowd. Sure enough, he was close to the front of the crowd, and Whiskey shoved more than a few people out of the way as she struggled to catch up with him, using her nose as a guide.

After at least a minute, Whiskey was able to see the boy instead of just smell him. The look of ease on his face had yet to subside from the ceremony, but his eyebrows were becoming furrowed and it looked like he was muttering to himself.

“Oi, Yukio!” Whiskey called. By some stroke of fate, he actually heard it, turning his head and even stopping. Whiskey caught up to him, the crowd of students parting around them like a stream around a rock. “Hey, Yukio-kun, we have some free time before class starts. You wanna meet up with some of my friends?”

Up close, Yukio’s tension was even more obvious. Whiskey could practically see the muscles hardened in his neck, and the bags under his eyes seemed even darker. It was enough for the girl to have a frown rivaling on par with his.

Yukio seemed to consider the proposal for a moment—before he put on a polite smile and shook his head. “I’m sorry Faust-san, but since I’m going to be in charge of the lesson, I need more time to prepare than you do,” he said. “I’m sure your friends can wait until a less stressful time.” Yukio turned to his watch, the action seeming smooth and unforced. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. Please be on time for class today.”

It was such a smooth deflection that Whiskey didn’t have the time to come up with a retort. A few other students managed to break out of the crowd, bumping against Whiskey as they went, not even offering an apology in their wake. By the time the girl managed to stand up straight and dust herself off, Yukio was already gone.

_That little piece of shit,_ Whiskey internally griped. There was no point in trying to chase after him now, considering she had been swallowed up by the crowd. Even so, it really pissed her off. She and Yukio weren’t exactly the best of friends in the short amount of time they had known each other, but he had never tried so hard to not be around her before.

“Ah, ah, ah, Whiskey-chan,” a voice scolded. Without even being told to, Whiskey snapped to attention. “If you’re not careful you’re going to set off a storm of Coal Tar, and I daresay those things will utterly ruin the view.”

“S-sorry, Vati,” Whiskey said. Closing her eyes, she took a few deep breaths, calming her irritation. It didn’t completely disappear, but it was at the very least put away in a little box that could be retrieved later. Satisfied that she had her emotions and abilities under control, Whiskey turned around to face her father.

Mephisto Pheles—or, as the other students now staring would think of him, Headmaster Faust—grinned, not looking too concerned about his daughter’s potential outburst. Whiskey was used to this sort of thing. In fact, she wouldn’t be surprised if Mephisto would just sit back and watch on the sidelines if an incident _did_ occur. He was just that kind of man.

“Now don’t you look nice in your new uniform,” Mephisto complimented, and Whiskey felt some heat rush up to her cheeks. She looked around, hoping none of the other students had heard, but that wasn’t the case. The sudden arrival of the Headmaster in their midst had brought a large portion of the flow of students to a halt, instead resulting in a rather large crowd. “While I do think that you should have gone for the female uniform, you do pull off the boys’ one quite nicely. Then again, that’s to be expected of my Whiskey-chan.”

Whiskey blushed more, fidgeting with the buttons of her uniform jacket. She hadn’t really _meant_ to get a boys’ uniform, but had more so decided on a whim that she wanted to try it. Besides, the student handbook only said that students had to attend classes _wearing_ a uniform. It never said _which_ one you had to be wearing.

Putting the loophole aside, Whiskey felt that Mephisto would have let her get away with it regardless.

“So, I take it that you’ve settled in to the dorms already?” Mephisto continued.

“Yeah,” Whiskey answered. Focusing in on her father, she tried to ignore the other students. Hopefully she could make it through this encounter without having too many rumors start about her. It was hard enough at times being the Headmaster’s daughter. “Ruma and Mocha-chan still had a few things packed away and I’m sure they’ll find a way to make a mess of the place, but I’m sure I can manage.”

Mephisto nodded, his grin not fading in the slightest. “Very good, very good.” He looked around, then waved a hand, signaling for the throng of students to move on. Once the shuffling of feet picked up again, Mephisto placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “High school children are always so nosy. Now, since I have some important things to tell you, why don’t we go somewhere more private to chat?”

Whiskey didn’t even have the instinct to try and protest. Yukio had effectively blown her off, so that plan was down the drain. Mocha could always find some way to entertain herself, and Ruma was probably going to sneak in a nap before cram school. Besides, even if Whiskey disagreed, her father would make her go along anyway.

And he had made it clear it wasn’t something to be talked about around ordinary True Cross Academy students. That at least somewhat increased the chances that it was something important.

Mephisto spun around, sending his cape into the air, and put a hand around Whiskey’s arm to lead her off. A few turns down hallways later, they were completely alone. Mephisto muttered, “_Einz, zwei, drei,_” then snapped his fingers, the German count of three sending them off in a puff of pink smoke.

Whiskey opened her eyes to her father’s office. Mephisto released his hold on her arm and headed for the seat at his desk. Whiskey moved to stand in front of him, but didn’t sit down. The opening ceremony had taken up some time, and her legs weren’t ready to be idle so soon. “So what’s up, Vati?” she asked, indulging Mephisto’s more dramatic tendencies.

The man smiled, meeting her gaze. “As you know, Shiro-kun passed away two days ago,” he began. The recap wasn’t really necessary, especially since it was the main reason Whiskey was trying to get Yukio to open up, but she held her tongue. “He was raising two children—Okumura Yukio, whom you’ve already met. The other is Yukio-kun’s twin brother, Rin-kun, who awakened his half-demon blood during the incident.”

Whiskey frowned, and she could feel her nose crinkle with the motion. “But Yukio-kun’s not—”

“Only Rin-kun has inherited any of his father’s powers. As you know, Okumura Yukio lost his mother hardly any time after he was born, which is why Shiro-kun took them in. Of course, most demon fathers are hardly around for their children.” As if sensing his own daughter discomfort, he added, “You happen to be a happy exception.”

Whiskey nodded. “Okay, so what happens to Rin-kun?” she asked.

Mephisto folded his hands in his lap. “Well, it appears that he wishes to become an exorcist,” he informed. Whiskey could hear the tone in her father’s voice that this was exactly the outcome he had been hoping for. “True to the terms of my agreement with Shiro-kun, I have chosen to honor Rin-kun’s desires as his new caretaker. However, I can’t be there for him every moment, not with my other responsibilities.”

“Which is where I come in,” Whiskey interrupted. Mephisto only nodded, not caring that he had been cut off. In fact, he looked pleased that she had caught on so quickly. “So what, am I supposed to train him? I doubt he happens to have powers like mine, unless you’re going to tell me I have two brothers I’ve never met before?”

Once again, Mephisto let out a snort. Whiskey was used to her father’s attitudes, so she waited it out. “Now, while that would be an interesting sequence of events, that’s not the case. After all, you’re my only child in this era, my precious Whiskey-chan.” It was probably supposed to be a reassurance, but Whiskey felt her stomach squirm. Something about having a bunch of siblings that were more than likely long dead didn’t sit well with her. “No, instead, what I’m asking is quite simple.”

Mephisto twirled a finger in the air before pointing it at his daughter.

“Whiskey-chan,” he announced, “Rin-kun had awakened his demon blood and has hardly known about the existence of demons for two days. Given the identity of his father—ah, his blood father, not Shiro-kun—it’s better for him to keep his demon status a secret. I’d say that if anyone knows the best way to do that, it would be you. And since you’re in the same cram school class as him, it all works out.”

The only way this could have been any more of a coincidence would be if Mephisto said that she and Okumura Rin were in the same general classes as well. Then again, with Mephisto involved, such a scenario would hardly be a coincidence.

But then again, Whiskey knew he was right. Her father was usually right, after all. Things were easier if she didn’t show off her demon side. Not that it had exactly worked, but she had done enough to avoid any major incidents. And for Okumura Rin…if his father was a troublesome topic, it was even more important for him to keep the secret than it was for her.

That was enough for her not to ask. Just doing what she could would be enough.

“Okay, I’ll help him out,” Whiskey agreed, leaning on her father’s desk. Mephisto looked up, his usual wide smile on his face. “It might make things a bit crazier, but I’m okay with it. Besides, someone else could help him, but that would just let the secret out. And that’s taking things too complicated way too fast in my opinion.”

Mephisto nodded his approval. “Then I’ll leave it to you, Whiskey-chan.” He stood up and ruffled his daughter’s hair. Whiskey frowned a little, but didn’t give any other protest. “Now, this has taken a bit of extra time more than I anticipated. I have some things to attend to. Why don’t you meet up with Rin-kun after cram school? From there, the decisions you make are up to you.”

Another snap of his fingers sent Whiskey blinking again. It wasn’t a big shift, just outside the office, but Whiskey supposed that if Mephisto thought it was necessary, there was no sense in arguing against it. Especially given that her father wasn’t around anymore. His business was probably some form of urgent.

Whiskey sighed.

_Another half-demon student, huh?_ She thought as she walked. _Well, it’s not unusual, but I guess this must be a special case. Really, that’s just like Vati not to give me any warning at all…but I guess it was circumstantial?_ Whiskey had to stop herself from grinding her teeth together, her incisors starting to dig into her lip. _I wonder what kind of powers he has then? No, wait._

_Does Yukio-kun know?_

It was a stupid question. He would have had to know. Yukio had had his temptaint for years. Even if Okumura Rin’s powers had just surfaced, a chance like that should have been obvious.

_No, nonono. Just stop altogether. _Whiskey needed to stop thinking about it now. _You have the information you need. Don’t go prying for all the details. Drama is drama. But even so, it’s manageable, just the way it is. Just take a deep breath and move on with life._

Inhale. Exhale. It was all she could do right now. Another set of breaths. _Zen._ It was complete bullshit, but Whiskey didn’t care. She relaxed herself, keeping the air clear. Right now, she was just a student in cram school that had lessons in a half hour that she needed to get ready for.

It could be routine. It just had to be kept simple. Go to school, go to cram school, complete assignments, hang out with friends. The sort of thing people did every day. It didn’t matter that she was an exorcist in training, half-demon, the Headmaster’s daughter. None of that had to make any difference.

On an ordinary day, Whiskey walked across campus. Most students had already went for the dorms, or even the town, enjoying their afternoon off. It wasn’t particularly warm, but the winter uniform made the early spring air comfortable. Even the sun was shining.

High school. Somehow, something as boring as that made her stomach tingle, more than her exorcist training, more than the prospect of helping out a half-demon.

It was completely unfamiliar territory.

But that was okay. Being nervous was normal. Its own pace. A completely different rhythm that could almost lull someone to sleep. If that was the case, Whiskey wouldn’t mind drifting away on a melody like that.

Fifteen minutes before the cram school lesson was set to start, Whiskey unlocked her dorm room door. At one of the three desks was Mocha, delicately loading her things into a bag. Ruma let out a soft snore from the bunk closest to the ceiling.

“Hey, Mocha-chan,” Whiskey whispered, causing her friend to perk up, “let’s get her.”

Mocha nodded. And without any other words, they moved in unison.


	4. Chapter Three

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Three

* * *

Whiskey wasn’t sure how to define her first impression of Okumura Rin.

To be fair, she was already irritated for a number of factors. Ruma took far too long to be roused from her sleep and get pulled into the classroom, even though it was just a magic key away. Yukio’s dismissal wormed its way under her skin and wouldn’t budge, plus the boy hadn’t shown up to cram school early like she had expected, preventing any ambush. There were a number of hobgoblins in the walls, which kicked her instincts into overdrive even though they were harmless unless provoked. When Okumura Rin walked through the door with her father as a dog at his heels, and _that_ was what made Ruma wake up just to gush over how cute their headmaster in disguise was alongside Mocha, Whiskey gave up on making sense of her day and just switched into autopilot.

The first class for any exorcist cram school involved a basic introduction to demons, as well as the temptaint ritual for any potential students who didn’t have one. Whiskey, being half-demon, didn’t need such things, and Ruma and Mocha had received theirs a year ago. It was why they were here with her. But tradition was tradition, and there were still a number of students who didn’t have them for whatever reasons.

Then the Okumura brothers had a spat, and the vial of cow’s blood Yukio had been handling to lure out a hobgoblin burst open in a rancid, overwhelming smell, and a rather contained rendition of hell broke loose inside room 1106.

A ceiling tile crashed down onto one of the empty tables, and Whiskey hopped to her feet in seconds. If they hadn’t raised their hands at the beginning of the class, it would have been easy to tell who couldn’t see. Ruma shifted into a fighting stance more fit for street brawls than demon hunting, and Mocha fumbled for her bag, but Whiskey was already moving for the lead hobgoblin of the pack.

_This is an easy cleanup, just focus—_

“_Warten sie._”

Whiskey broke her stride at the sound of her father’s voice, cracking into the side of the classroom table and almost smacking her forehead into it. While Mephisto’s voice moved a few tones up the vocal scale when transformed, it didn’t stop the authority he put into the words or the effect German had on their conversations.

Whiskey turned to her father, sitting on the table by Rin. Yukio’s gunshots sent deep echoes through Whiskey’s heightened ears, but her own voice overrode that, even at a whisper.

“_Aber ich kann mich loswerden—_”

“_Evakuiren sie mit den anderen und lassen sie den Lehrer damit umgehen._”

Whiskey grit her teeth at the dismissal but released the start of her Submission anyways. She grabbed onto Ruma and Mocha’s arms, pulling them through the door along with the others Yukio had already evacuated. If anything else, this would be a chance to introduce herself to her fellow half-demon, so it wasn’t a total loss—

Okumura Rin slammed the door shut, closing himself in with his brother. He had enough irritation in his veins right now that she could sense it, even through the walls. However he needed to process the grief of Shiro’s death, trying to make friends with him wouldn’t help at the moment. Whiskey didn’t have siblings, but she had read enough manga to know that there was no room getting between their disputes.

Huffing out a sigh, Whiskey leaned against the wall.

The rest of the students had broken into their own groups, along with a few loners. One of the other girls was shaken up, but her friend was whispering comforting words, and no one else seemed too rattled, so Whiskey figured she could let them be. _They’d be in a sorry state to become exorcists if this freaked them out._

“What the hell what that guy’s deal?” Ruma asked, kicking at the ground. “Starting a fight with the teacher in the middle of class. No wonder this turned into a disaster.”

Mocha snickered. “You say that, Ruma-chan, but you’re just as big of a troublemaker.”

A flush of red highlighted the taller girl’s freckles. “That was ages ago. I know my limits!”

Whiskey wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t fall into the banter so easy. While she hadn’t earned her certification as Yukio had done, growing up with a father like Mephisto left her with the skills to defend herself. Being pushed out of the way like she was defenseless didn’t sit well, either.

Under her uniform shirt, Whiskey’s tail twitched in irritation. She had just been planning to keep it away until the temptaint ritual had been completed so as not to make the newly aware students panic, but that opportunity had passed.

_I’m going to go back to the dorm and read some nice, calming, slice-of-life manga._

“But that kid from our class is really one of our instructors, huh?” Ruma was musing. Whiskey nodded, pretending she hadn’t lost track of the conversation for a few minutes. “Sheesh, what do you have to do to be a teacher so young? I thought you were a hard-worker, Whiskey.”

She let herself laugh, even if she didn’t feel it. “Well, he was determined to earn his certification,” Whiskey said. “I didn’t decide to earn my meister until last year, so…”

There was a pause of guilt between them, but Mocha whipped up her usual grin and cheer to dispel it. “Well, we’re all here now, and we have a mission!” she reminded, the volume of her words drawing a few stares from the trio of boys. “First up, we’re all gonna become super cool exorcists. And for the sub-quest, we’re gonna make Okumura-sensei loosen up little bit. Whiskey-chan, invite him over for dinner tonight. If we get the timing right, we won’t have to worry about curfews or anything.”

“I’m pretty sure Yukio-kun won’t go for something as blatantly breaking the rules as hanging out in the girls’ dorms.”

“Pshaw.” Mocha flipped a dismissive hand through the air. “As if the rules are that strict on the matter. And if he makes a fuss, we’ll just go out to eat. Easy! Oh, there he is. Is class canceled, Sensei?” Whiskey let loose a chuckle as Yukio let everyone gather their things and directed them to another room. Mocha’s enthusiasm did wonders for Whiskey’s mood, for the amount of time it lasted.

Mocha could work wonders, but she couldn’t dispel the smell of demons’ death and the feeling of disease Whiskey got from watching her father’s canine disguise hop along to the rest of the lesson with them.

* * *

Whiskey’s goal of reading something light and fluffy upon returning to the dorm room had to be abandoned. She wanted to touch base with her father, Yukio had assigned homework (basic homework, but homework nonetheless), and Mocha wasn’t letting the idea of having the already exhausted exorcist instructor over for dinner go forgotten.

“You said you’d introduce us to him today and he left after we switched teachers so we couldn’t catch him at school and I guess we already met him as a teacher but we gotta meet him as a friend so come on Whiskey-chan call him call him call him.”

With Mocha’s lack of a rational need for air, Whiskey wouldn’t be surprised if the smaller girl had distant demon heritage with the kingdom of wind. Ruma provided zero support, too busy tugging off her plaid stockings from the top bunk.

“Yeah, I know, I know.” Whiskey retrieved her phone and made a show of waving it in Mocha’s face. “I’ll call him and get him to hang out with us one way or another. Gimme a few minutes.”

Whiskey slipped her shoes back on and ducked out the door, dodging around other girls in the halls. She was sure she made a stark figure in her black uniform amongst all the pastels and casual clothes for the evening, but she focused on ducking to the outside. There was still a chill to the night air, but it let the heat and tension out that Whiskey had been holding in.

Most students were too busy unpacking and adjusting to their new dorms to be out at night. Lights illuminated almost every window in the massive dormitory. Considering that the boys had a separate building, it just showed how many students True Cross Academy could and did hold that they were close to full capacity.

Out of range of any prying ears, Whiskey selected Yukio’s contact in her phone. She sized the building up as the line rang, her eyes adjusting to the dark with sharp clarity. By the time Yukio picked up, Whiskey had already found a decent pathway up to the roof.

_“Okumura Yukio speaking,_” said boy answered, forcing himself not to sound too tired.

Whiskey untucked her tail for balance and hopped towards one of the dorm’s decorative banisters. “Hey, Yukio-kun. It’s Whiskey.” While she had a smartphone herself, Yukio had an older model, so it was out of politeness she identified herself.

_“Pheles-san,”_ Yukio sighed out, and Whiskey could pick up every minor exasperation in his voice. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, but that didn’t make things better. _“Unless this is about the homework I assigned, can we hold this conversation another time? I still have to finish sorting out my own room and meet with my brother, as well as your follow up Demon Pharmaceuticals lesson in two days.”_

“You’re avoiding me.” The polite thing to do would have been to agree and make plans to chat later. The sneaky thing to do would be to talk about the assignment and edge it in the direction she wanted to go. The smart thing to do for her father’s assignment would be to push the conversation into a meeting with Okumura Rin. The smartest outcome would be to do that, but also bring her roommates along so that she could knock out two birds with one stone.

Too bad Whiskey wasn’t feeling very polite, sneaky, or smart at the moment.

Yukio remained silent as Whiskey finished her climb up to the roof. Balancing on slanted tiles, she looked over the expanse of True Cross Academy City below her, lights shining from the shopping districts. “Hey, I…I know what it’s like when something awful and devastating happens to you. I won’t say it’s the same as what you’re going through, ‘cause it’s not. But...keeping it closed up never helped me, Yukio-kun. You’re going to have to open up to someone sooner or later, even if it’s because you break under pressure.”

There was no response, and it took the lack of a dial tone for Whiskey to believe Yukio hadn’t hung up. A breeze rustled her hair and tail.

_“Thank you for the concern, but I’ve always handled these situations better on my own,”_ Yukio said. _Only because you never tried talking,_ Whiskey thought. _“You should be focusing on your meister and coursework if you want to be a serious Doctor candidate. Is that all you had to say to me?”_

Whiskey would have chucked her phone right off the dormitory roof if it would’ve done any good besides venting her frustration. Instead she ground her teeth, hopping between different sections on the roof. A Coal Tar popped into existence, and Whiskey shooed it away.

When she was sure she could speak without sounding like she wanted nothing more than to kick Yukio’s teeth in, she said, “Well even if you’re busy, you need to eat. Why don’t you come have dinner with us?” She considered her next sentence, then decided to go for it. “You can bring your brother, too. I’d like to—”

_“Sorry, I have an incoming work call,”_ Yukio interrupted. Whiskey hated the fact that she couldn’t tell if he was lying or not. _“It’s a busy time, so I won’t be able to accept any invitations. Take care, Pheles-san.”_

This time, the high pitched dial tone did reach her ears. Gripping onto the cellphone hard enough to crack had not Mephisto set up protective charms on it to survive exorcism battles, Whiskey stomped down onto her next landing point and screamed.

She knew Yukio was like this. Yukio had always been like this: an antisocial workaholic. But in middle school he had been polite about his refusals, made sure not to burn any bridges, even when others got on his nerves. But what had happened was plain dismissive behavior, and Whiskey didn’t like the fact that she’d been brushed off twice in one day.

_Don’t take it personally, Whiskey. It’s the grief working its way through his system. And anyone would be in a bad mood after having their first lecture upended like that._

The rationale was sound, but Whiskey couldn’t take it to heart. Mocha wouldn’t take the news of Yukio’s refusal well, so heading back downstairs wouldn’t do much to improve the half-demon’s mood. Instead, she unlocked her phone again, this time dialing a different number.

Clouds rolled across the nighttime sky as Whiskey waited for her father to pick up the phone.

His voicemail answered instead, and Whiskey shoved her phone into her pocket before she could do any substantial damage. Her first day of high school, and things were going _great_. Things wouldn’t have been so complicated if she didn’t have cram school to worry about, but Whiskey couldn’t drop out now. Mocha and Ruma, not even having their temptaints for two months, needed someone they knew to help guide them into the future they had chosen. And Okumura Rin, half-demon for less than a week, needed a friend.

Cursing her good conscience, Whiskey double checked that the ground was clear below before jumping from the roof.

* * *

Mocha, as expected, did not take the news well. Ruma, also as expected, didn’t seem to care and just wanted to eat. It took a lot of bickering and harebrained plans and schemes to try and kidnap Yukio for Whiskey to remind them if they kept the argument up, there wouldn’t be a dinner to eat when they got downstairs.

Ruma wouldn’t be deterred from food, and Mocha wouldn’t be deterred from her disappointment. Whiskey put on her headphones the second they returned to their dorm and started on her cram school homework. As long as she ignored just _what_ she was studying, the whole thing could seem mundane.

Starting proper classes the next day did wonders to improve her mood. The first week consisted of a number of half-days, which did put a dent in Whiskey’s plan to ambush Yukio during lunch. Mocha had made friends with a few others in her class, and Ruma claimed another afternoon nap, leaving the half-demon of the three to her devices.

If she couldn’t make a direct attack on Yukio, she’d have to switch objectives: finding Okumura Rin. If she was lucky, the older of the twins could do something about his stubborn brother.

Whiskey made her way down the Academy’s front steps and headed towards the dormitory areas. There was a substantial distance between the boys’ and girls’ rooms for whatever reason, but the walk helped curb Whiskey’s anticipation. Mingling in with the other students, she walked through the line of cherry trees her father had very much used his abilities to maintain their in bloom luster.

_Well, it is the symbol of a new school year, huh? That’s just like Vati._

When she was close enough, Whiskey perched on a stone bench near the boys’ dorm entrance and surveyed the crowd. Boys of every year type roamed across the path, some still in uniform, others in their casual clothes heading out for the afternoon. A flash of pink caught her attention as three of the boys from the cram school class passed by, but still no Okumura twins.

_I didn’t expect to see Yukio since he has all his magic keys, but at least Rin should have passed by. There’s no sense in them not staying on campus; it’s too far to travel otherwise._

Whiskey chewed on her tongue and ran her fingers over the patterns engraved on the bench. She didn’t want to make a big fuss over it, but the whole thing was becoming more of a mess than she had bargained for. She supposed she could go and ask inside where the twins were staying, but being the Headmaster’s daughter would give her an unfair advantage—one she wanted to avoid as much as she could. Asking Mephisto would be cheating, too, and if his refusal to let her fight the hobgoblins showed anything, he might just play another game.

_Ugh, I hate this, but I don’t want to play a game right now. It’ll just be easier to do it myself._

Whiskey stood and brushed her pants off before shutting her eyes. She took a deep inhale through her nose, letting out the smallest ekes of her demonic power. Making sure to keep the lock on her Submission shut tight, Whiskey searched for the scent of a demon.

With Okumura Rin’s status as a half-human, she had been expecting to have to hunt out any unusual demon energies in the area. But a bright aura—contained, but not less brilliant—flashed through Whiskey’s awareness just as the scent of pure _fire_ burned through her nose. Whiskey broke into a coughing fit as the smell dried out her throat within seconds.

_Okay. Kin of fire, then,_ she assessed, pinching her nose to avoid dry breaths. _Very powerful kin of fire. No wonder having his identity out would cause trouble. Most people would panic about that much power being in a human’s hands._

Maybe she was more suited to help the boy than she had thought she could be.

Not wanting to burn out her airways again, Whiskey pulled back her heightened senses, and followed the path Okumura Rin’s aura was taking her on.


	5. CHapter Four

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Four

* * *

Whiskey had expected to find Okumura Rin wandering about, exploring other parts of the campus, or even having found a solitary place to be to his thoughts. Maybe he still had some of _his_ pent up energy from the day before left—the energy that had caused him to start a fight with his own brother in the middle of class—and needed to run around to get it out.

She hadn’t expected to be face to face with the old boys’ dormitory.

Her father had a pretty open policy on discussing work with his daughter, from details of the Order of the True Cross to the simple in comparison tasks of an Academy headmaster. New dorms had been built for both sexes a few years back, and the abandoned ones were used for cram school activity. They were abandoned just in that no one lived there anymore, and were maintained well by the looks of it.

And Okumura Rin’s aura was inside.

_This’ll be easier than making a fuss in the main dorms, anyway._

Whiskey pulled open the front door and stepped inside. The air was stale, but not filled with mold or any other signs of decay. Seeing an empty dormitory lobby felt strange, and no sounds of movement echoed around the walls. Even though she didn’t need it, Whiskey undid the protections on her first level of Submission as she pushed forward.

Okumura Rin’s presence led her to the closed door of room 602, and Whiskey dropped her aura perception. Even so, her natural instincts could detect a faint warmth from inside. Not quite sure just _what_ the boy was doing in the abandoned dorm but not wanting to cause a potential out lash of fire should he feel threatened, Whiskey raised her fist and knocked on the door.

The empty building amplified any sounds within it; there was a surprised shout, then the thudding of footsteps. “It’s not like I locked the door if you forgot your key, Yuki—” Okumura Rin’s words cut off short as he opened the door. “Eh?”

The day before, the boy had been angry and confused. Now he was just the latter, and Whiskey took note of the pause to get a better look at him. Sure, he had his similarities to Yukio—the dark, short hair, the bright blue eyes—but Rin’s expression had a more lax setting to it, evident in the lack of his brother’s many moles and permanent crease between his eyebrows. Even with the obvious differences of pointed ears, longed canines, and a black tail with a poofy end swishing back and forth, it was the lack of any serious demeanor that set him more apart from Yukio in Whiskey’s eyes.

“I’m Whiskey Pheles—from your cram school class?” she introduced. Rin nodded once, his mouth still hanging open. “I wanted to talk to you and your brother. Is he here now?” Whiskey leaned to look around Rin into the room, but couldn’t see much for the blur of movement from Rin’s retreat.

It took a moment before she realized he was trying to hide his tail. “No Yukio’s not here he hasn’t come back can you wait a moment outside please—”

“Hold on,” Whiskey protested, stepping into the room. Rin’s tail had gone stiff in a panic, making it harder as he tried to tug his uniform jacket on (backwards, she might add) to hide it. “I want you to take a minute and look at me.”

Rin froze in place, though he was holding his tail back behind him. Whiskey seeped out enough of her own demonic aura to make the points of her own ears elongate and flicked her tail into view. Rin’s already wide blue eyes grew to proportions enough to make a shojo manga heroine jealous.

“You have— That’s a—” Rin stammered before collecting himself enough to shout, “What is going on here?!”

Whiskey was very glad they were in the abandoned dorms, though the room they stood in wasn’t very abandoned. The side of the room Rin had run to was covered in the mess of unpacking. _Vati’s making him live here?_ Those questions could wait for another time. If she wanted Rin’s trust, she needed to answer his first.

“The Headmaster’s my father,” she started, wanting to get that out of the way.

Rin tilted his head. “Mephisto?”

Whiskey nodded. Some of the tension drained from Rin’s body, but not all of it. He didn’t trust her father all the way yet, and Whiskey couldn’t blame him. “He told me about your blood father. Since I’m a half demon, too, he thought I could help.” Rin’s expression flickered between a grimace and relief. Whiskey didn’t want to push him too far, so she kept her voice soft. “I think your powers are a bit different than mine, but I can give you advice on what it’s like being a half-demon, if you want.”

Rin spent the next few moments taking a good look at her—and a very good look at that. Whiskey didn’t flinch back, though she did wish he would say something. Everything was quiet, enough that she could hear Rin’s even breaths.

“Okay,” he said after a short eternity. “Okay, okay. Sorry, I didn’t expect this.” Rin pulled a hand through his hair, still looking awkward. Whiskey clasped her hands behind her back and waited for his mouth to catch up with his brain. “This whole past week has been a mess. From Dad to Yukio and _this_—” He gestured to himself, tail flicking behind him. “Sorry. Can I…talk to you?”

Whiskey nodded her approval. “I’m free until cram school,” she said. Rin tossed his uniform jacket aside, not taking much notice of the mess he had managed to make in one day. Whiskey swiped the spare desk chair, organized so well with both school and demonology books that it had to belong to Yukio. Wondering if his brother’s mess would drive Yukio as nuts as Ruma’s did to her, Whiskey dropped the chair into the center of the room. “Whatever you need to talk about, I’ll listen.”

Rin nodded in return, but he still took some time before saying anything. Whiskey could pretty much see the gears turning behind his eyes, unsure of where to start. With everything going on for him, Whiskey could understand. If someone had asked her to explain all of _her_ emotional baggage, one afternoon’s talk wouldn’t be enough to cover it.

The shaky sound of Rin’s inhale brought Whiskey’s thoughts back into focus. “Everything feels like a lie,” he admitted. The words came slow and choppy, as if he’d never spoken about his feelings before. “I thought I knew who I was—a screw up, sure, but at least I had a brother and dad who loved me and a home. And now…I don’t.”

Whiskey frowned a bit, Yukio’s cold attitude from the classroom the day before coming to mind. “I know you lost Shiro-kun, but that doesn’t mean you’ve lost Yukio or your home,” she said, keeping her voice even. The logic frustrated her on a most fundamental sense, but Whiskey knew grief could poison someone’s thoughts until they didn’t follow any reasonable path. “I understand, though. Losing Shiro-kun is…I didn’t think it would ever happen with how strong he was.”

She hadn’t meant to make the situation about her, but Rin’s eyes brightened a bit at the mention of Shiro. “You knew my dad?” he asked.

“Yeah, since he’s a friend of my father’s.” That much seemed to match Rin’s understanding of the situation, as the boy took a seat and looked at her, waiting for the continuation. “He may have been busy and I didn’t see him all the time, but he did help me when I was young and did something stupid with my powers. He introduced me to Yukio, too, since we were the same age, but that brother of yours isn’t very…amicable to making friends.”

“You said it,” Rin agreed without hesitation, and Whiskey wondered if there was a point in trying to be polite about it.

But griping about Yukio could come later.

“So, yeah, Shiro-kun was really cool,” Whiskey said, and Rin cracked a smile, proud of his dad. “And even though I was a half-demon, he treated me just like any other kid. It didn’t matter to him who my parents were. And I’ve heard him talk about how proud of his sons he was.” Whiskey adjusted the chair so she could sit in in backwards and still look at Rin. “Your blood father means nothing; Shiro-kun loved you like you were his flesh and blood.”

_I can say that for sure._

Rin blinked a few times, then became very interested in looking any direction but Whiskey’s. She looked to the ceiling and assessed that it was still in good shape so he could wipe away his tears without being noticed.

“Thanks,” Rin said, his voice still quiet, but steady. “You said you did something stupid with your powers when you were younger?” Whiskey grimaced; she hadn’t even talked to Ruma and Mocha about that. Rin backtracked. “Sorry, I don’t need to know I just—did you find out about what you were like me, or…?”

_Oh, that’s what he was aiming at._ Whiskey slumped over the back of the chair, forcing herself to relax. A bit messy and a lot heartbroken at the moment, Rin seemed like a good guy. And she knew he needed the help, so if talking would do it, she could try. “No, I grew up knowing,” she admitted. Rin deflated at the loss of similarity, but didn’t retreat. “Vati of course treated it like it was normal, so I never knew how unusual it was until…well, it wasn’t fun, but I had my wakeup call in elementary school. It was an awful feeling to realize how other people saw me.”

Whiskey tried to consider it: Rin had learned he was something different than he always thought he had been. And based on the secrecy about his blood father, there could even be people who would resent him for it. To be hated just for your bloodline on top of the losses that had already happened—Whiskey sympathized where pure empathy couldn’t come through.

“It’s awful,” Rin said, falling back onto his bed. He grimaced when he landed on his tail the wrong way, still not used to the appendage. He snatched it up, grimacing from the rough contact. “Ugh, this is annoying! I kinda get how it works, but having a tail is so weird.”

Whiskey giggled at the break in mood, letting her own tail raise up a bit. “Getting used to it is one of the things I can help with, you know. You’ll get used to it, I promise.”

Rin glowered at Whiskey’s tail. She couldn’t sense any malice from him, so it was in jest. She could take a little ribbing. Playing around was progress. Even so, the mood drifted back down to somber as Rin frowned. “Whiskey, did it ever make you hate yourself? Having other people hate you?”

_So that’s where he’s coming from._ Again, that was a feeling she could understand on a conceptual level, but—

“No, it didn’t,” she said. Whiskey tugged a knee up to her chest, seated right on the edge of the chair. Even without support, she kept her balance. “It just made me hate a lot of other people instead.” She didn’t like admitting it, but Rin deserved someone honest after being lied to all his life. “Don’t get me wrong, it was irrational. But it still hurt, and I still hate a lot of people sometimes. I just don’t hurt them the way I used to.”

If anything, admitting that was something she’d never considered doing. She knew now that people could hate you for who you were for a number of reasons. If something was a part of you, it wasn’t your fault. Whiskey couldn’t help being half-demon, couldn’t help how she’d kept to herself in middle school. But she could help her actions.

It was easy for Ruma and Mocha to like her because even if she was a half-demon, she was her friend, and she didn’t rampage like some other demons did. It was the same as how her father had become a confidant of the Knights of the True Cross, because he aided them rather than opposed them.

_But if I act like they think I am, then I really am just a monster._

Rin didn’t look at her like she’d disappointed his expectations. He didn’t look like she’d said anything awful, either. Instead, there was a quiet awe in his expression, and a light of something akin to recognition in his eyes.

“I’ve hurt a lot of people, too,” he blurted out. “Looking back, it was because I couldn’t control my strength. It didn’t matter if I didn’t have a damn idea of what I was, I hurt and destroyed a lot. People used to call me a demon and—and now I guess they’re right.”

There was just pain in those words, and Whiskey’s heart tugged. If the scene had been playing out in a manga, she would’ve had just the right thing to say. But all words that came to mind sounded hollow to her, and she didn’t know if anything could help erase that kind of hurt with a few kind words.

She tried anyway.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re a demon,” she said, and Rin looked back up. Not wanting to let him down, Whiskey sat up tall. “We’re both demons, but that doesn’t mean we have to hurt and destroy.” She pressed a hand into her chest, right up against the thudding of her heart. “I’m becoming an exorcist so I can protect the people I care about. I’ll use my power to do some good, even if it’s just a little.”

Saying the words left her embarrassed. She expected the grin on Rin’s face to let loose a laugh, but all it held was determination. “Yeah, I’ve never cared what people thought of me before. Why start now?” He bounced up to his feet, tail wagging with unbridled joy. “Hey, I’m not the smartest, so I might slow you down, but let’s become great exorcists together, alright?”

Two half-demons working together to become exorcists—to be more than what people expected them to be. It was such a cliché scenario it hurt Whiskey to think about it. But Rin seemed determined, and that enthusiasm infected her enough that one half-demon stood up and offered her hand to another to shake.

“Let’s do this.”

* * *

They might have been late for cram school if Whiskey not the sort to set a timer on her phone to remind her when to leave. Still, she was almost late because, thanks to the out of the way location of the old boys’ dorm, it was quite the run back to the girls’ side to pick up her school materials. At least the magic key took out needing to _walk_ to cram school.

It didn’t stop the suspicious look Mocha and Ruma gave her when she entered their dorm through the window, though.

_I really need to stop putting myself in situations that require the use of my powers._

“Whiskey-chan was almost late!” Mocha exclaimed, face contorting in mock (Whiskey hoped) horror. “It’s the end of the world.”

“Damn, I thought I was gonna get to rag on you,” Ruma lamented, just then hopping off her bed and tossing her cram school supplies into her bag. Whiskey put down her True Cross Academy school bag and retrieved the extra bag she had packed for cram school the night before. “I’d ask if you had any luck tracking down Grumpy Glasses-sensei, but you would’ve forced him back here if you did.” A growl surfaced in Whiskey that she didn’t realize she’d been holding in. While talking to Rin had been nice, Yukio hadn’t shown his face at all. “Did you get distracted reading manga or something?”

“No, I did _not_.” You marathon a series and forget that it was time for dinner _once_ and they never let you down for it. Whiskey slung her bag over her shoulder, detaching the cram school key from the strap. “I went to find Yukio-kun and I ran into his brother instead. We talked.”

Mocha joined her friends by the door. “Mighty vague there, Whiskey-chan,” she trilled.

Whiskey rolled her eyes. “He got his Temptaint like two days before school started. Joining the cram school was a matter of necessity.” She could leave the half-demon details for later; Ruma and Mocha were trustworthy, but it was Rin’s secret to share with others. “I just talked to him to help out. He could use a friend.”

Mocha considered the explanation, but seemed mollified. Whiskey went to turn the key, but Ruma flicked her shoulder. “Tail, genius,” the redhead reminded.

The half-demon started, but lifted her jacket to slip her tail under nonetheless. Rin had hidden his tail the day before, too, so it would be for the best to keep him in a setting of mutual understanding.

_Ordinary girls don’t have tails, anyway._

All appendages in their proper places, the key was turned and the cram school hallway opened before them. Mocha lead the pack through, skipping all the way. When she was a few steps away, the girl turned around and continued hopping down the hall, backwards. “Okay, you’ve made friends with one Okumura, but we still need the other,” she decided. “Thankfully for you two, I have this awesome plan to make him stop after class today.”

“You do realize we don’t have Demon Pharmaceuticals again until tomorrow, right?” Ruma deadpanned. Mocha almost tripped into the wall.

Whiskey held in her snicker. “I appreciate the enthusiasm, though,” she offered. If Yukio was ignoring her, then he deserved no better wrath than an unchecked Mocha. “What sort of plan is it?”

Mocha regained her stride, throwing in a twirl for good measure. “Well, I figured I could go for the whole ‘Sensei, I had a question about the lesson’ approach…”


	6. Chapter Five

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Five

* * *

Rin wasn’t sure what to think when he noticed that Whiskey had saved a seat for him in class, but he took it. The blue-haired half-demon’s friends sat behind them (two girls, at that), and even seemed okay with chatting as a group. Rin didn’t get much attention on a regular basis, and the fact that the cram school room had so many open seats made sitting next to someone an option, not a requirement.

So maybe he got a little bit excited about having a new friend. Okay, he got a lot excited. He had to rein it in as their lessons for the day started, and by the end his head was spinning with the amount of information he had to process, let alone the homework that had come with it.

Somehow, he had thought, it being an _exorcist_ cram school should have meant homework would be a little more exciting than supernatural worksheets and readings.

Relieved at the finished lecture for the day, Rin slumped onto the classroom table, not caring that he had pressed his cheek straight into his scrawled attempts at notes. Chairs scraped as the other cram school kids gathered their things, and light chatter filled the air. Behind him, Whiskey’s two friends had started a debate on what the best way to avoid getting their skirt flipped in a combat situation would be.

“You okay there?” Whiskey asked, peering down at Rin. He rolled his head to look at the other boy. Before, when Whiskey had first arrived at the dorms, Rin hadn’t been able to notice anything unusual about him. Now, knowing they were fellow half-demons, it was easy to catch the slight points to Whiskey’s ears, the flash of pointed canines when he spoke. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to maybe study together, but you look like you could just use some sleep.”

Tucked under his shirt, Rin’s tail twitched in excitement as he sat up. “No, I can come,” he said with a bit too much excitement. Making a new friend, and getting a chance to hang out, too? The study part wasn’t the ideal situation, but someone like Whiskey had to be good at this exorcist stuff, having been raised with awareness of his demon heritage. “Though I’m probably not gonna be much help…”

Whiskey shrugged. “It’s fine.” He started to pack up his things, each book and pencil going into a specific place in his bag. It made Rin feel almost guilty for how he dropped his exorcist materials on top of his regular school supplies. At least he didn’t have homework there, too. “Those two back there are new, too, plus Ruma can’t focus for the life of her. You won’t be any trouble at all.”

Rin glanced back at the girls, whose debate had escalated to a level of detail he decided it was best not to listen to. They had introduced themselves before class started, but he was still adjusting to their names. Ruma was the freckled redhead who had to be at least a fraction foreign if her slight accent was any indication. Mocha kept her light brown hair in low twin tails and was so small she looked like she would snap if a demon so much as sneezed at her.

“Them, too?” Rin asked. They were a bit strange, but he wouldn’t mind being friends with them. It was just that, even though he pretty much had the old boys’ dorm to himself, Yukio would still throw a fit if he came home to find girls in the room at night.

_If he ever comes home to do something other than work at his desk or sleep. And even then, he hardly does that._

“Is it alright if they do?” Whiskey returned, frowning a bit. “I think it’ll be best if we can all help each other. I promise they’re okay once you get to know them.” And then, as if reading Rin’s mind, Whiskey mouthed, _They know._

They knew. Rin considered that. They knew Whiskey was a half-demon, then, and they were still his friends. Rin wasn’t sure if he was ready to put it out in the open, as being the son of Satan wasn’t the best conversation starter, but at least if he wanted to, they’d be somewhat understanding.

Whiskey hadn’t judged him, even knowing who Rin was. _If I wanna be his friend, I’ll have to trust him._

Rin let the smile he’d been holding in go loose. “Yeah, that’s fine!” He couldn’t remember being included in a group of friends even all the way back to elementary school. Like hell he was gonna let the opportunity pass by.

Whiskey gave a small smile of his own. “Good. We’ll get you up to date on your grimoire lit in no time.”

Just the name of subject made Rin want to fall asleep. Finished packing up his supplies, he started in the middle of zipping up his bag. “Where should we meet, though? There’s a curfew, plus isn’t it a rule that guys aren’t allowed in the girls’ dorms?” He wasn’t certain, since he had just skimmed over the Academy rule book a few minutes before getting distracted, but that seemed like a thing.

“Hm, fair point.” Whiskey tilted his head back in thought, then snapped his fingers. “We can go out for dinner. There’s plenty of places to study in here, but I don’t feel like being stuck in the cram school all evening.” His nose crinkled, and Rin could agree. There was an underlying smell to this place that didn’t sit right with him. Maybe because students practiced how to get rid of demons here and he was one. “You’re probably not familiar with the town are you?”

Rin shook his head, remembering a more important issue in the process. “No, but I shouldn’t come then.” Mephisto had given him an allowance and, while more than Father Fujimoto had been able to give, it wasn’t much to throw away on going out to eat. Not for the first time in his life, Rin’s face burned from not having much to his name. “I, uh… I don’t have much cash and things are ti—”

“I’ll cover it,” Whiskey offered without hesitation. Rin’s jaw dropped and he started to splutter out protests. Whiskey brushed him off. “No worries. I don’t like to admit it, but Vati spoils me. It’ll be his treat, so don’t worry your head.”

_Well, if it’s Mephisto’s money…_

The matter settled, Whiskey stood. Most everyone else had left already, save for the girls behind them, still immersed in their conversation. “Well I know the town is confusing if you’re not used to it, so how about we meet up towards your place?” he proposed. Rin nodded. “I grew up here, so I’ll get us something good to eat, no worries.” Then Whiskey’s smile dropped as he knocked hard on Ruma and Mocha’s table. “Oh my god, you two, _spats_. Come on, we’re gonna go out tonight, so let’s get ready.”

“Free food?” Ruma asked, her grin almost dripping saliva. “I’m in.”

“Rin-chan, too?” Mocha added on. Rin nodded, too stunned by the informal referral to say anything. “Extra nice!” Mocha bounded to her feet, flashing a wide smile. “What’s the time limit? How fashionable should I go?”

“Twenty minutes _tops_,” Whiskey scolded, “and bring your homework.” Both girls groaned a bit, but didn’t argue. Satisfied, Whiskey turned back to Rin with a smile. “See you soon,” he said, then corralled Ruma and Mocha out of the room.

Rin smiled all the way back to his dorm, unable to resist the urge to toss a celebratory cheer into the evening air.

* * *

One of Whiskey’s favorite restaurants to go to had always been a small barbeque shop, the kind with grills in the middle of the table. Mephisto had enjoyed the almost rustic decor, all pale wood and mementos hanging from the walls, while Ruma could be swayed into anything when meat was involved. The same applied to Mocha, at a lesser degree.

And based on the look of awe on Rin’s face, he approved of the choice as well.

“It smells so good!” Rin exclaimed, and Whiskey had to agree. Meat sizzled from every corner of the restaurant, with just the right overlay of vegetables to set her mouth watering. Ruma smacked her lips together in anticipation. “Is it really alright to eat here? Meat’s expensive.”

Ruma slapped a hand to the boy’s mouth. “You know who Whiskey’s dad is, right?” Rin nodded, Ruma’s hand bobbing with him. “Then don’t worry about it. Whiskey here is _loaded._”

“Let’s not brag about stuff like that,” Whiskey said, her face running hot enough to give the grills a run for their money. Her father may have been an extravagant man, but he had drilled manners into his daughter. Humility had been one of the first lessons. “But, really, don’t worry. I wouldn’t have offered to pay if I couldn’t afford it.”

Rin’s second nod prompted Ruma to drop her hand. Whiskey adjusted her grip on her bag and turned to ask for a table, but Mocha was already waving the group into the restaurant. “I got the last open grill table,” the brunette cheered. “Come on, I’m starving!”

“We can’t do our homework at the grill table,” Whiskey scolded, but Mocha shrugged her off.

“We’ll just switch over once we’re done eating.”

Whiskey turned to the others for support, but Ruma followed their roommate without hesitation. Rin was next in line for backup, but he had a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, but I’ve always wanted to try this,” he said. “I’m a pretty good cook, so let me handle the meat, will ya?”

All Whiskey could do was sigh and apologize to the hostess, Yasu. “Is it okay if we hop over tables later?” she asked.

Yasu kept up her usual charming smile without missing a beat. “I’m sure someone will be glad you’re willing to give up your spot, Margeret-san,” the hostess said. “We don’t get too busy on weekdays like this, so there should be a place. Don’t worry about it.”

“Sorry. Thanks for putting up with us all the time.” Yasu laughed a bit, but directed the loitering half-demons to their table. Ruma and Mocha had taken up one side of the table, leaving Rin and Whiskey to the booth along the wall. Whiskey went to pick up on the other’s conversation (they were pointing to the entire menu, never a good sign), but noticed the confused look on Rin’s face first. “What’s up?”

“She called you Mar—Mer—bleh!” Rin grimaced as he bit his tongue on the foreign name. Whiskey wondered how he fared with English in general. “Margeret,” he managed, not without a slight lisp of accent. “What’s that all about?”

Whiskey was so used to her friends ignoring her public name that she often didn’t have time to think of how different it would have seemed to an outsider. “It’s a name so people don’t stare when they hear my real one.” At least, that’s why she still used it at school. “You know, how Vati’s ‘Johann Faust V’? Like that.”

Rin took a moment to register just who she was talking about, but it seemed to click alright in the end. “Yeah, I get what you mean… Whiskey’s a type of alcohol, though?”

The girl in question gave a wry smile. “That’s…Vati’s sense of humor.”

“Sorry I asked,” Rin said, looking very much like he wanted to forget that sense of humor. If Whiskey were in his place, she might have wanted the same thing. “Um…can I help you?”

It took that for Whiskey to realize that Mocha and Ruma had stopped staring at the menu and had chosen to stare at them instead. Ruma had leaned back in her seat while Mocha was kicking her feet under the table in amused glee. “You’re Okumura-sensei’s brother, right, Rin-chan?” Mocha asked.

For a moment, Rin looked uncomfortable, and Whiskey was prepared to kick Mocha back for her lack of tact. But the boy recovered after a few moments, so Whiskey withheld her assault. “Man, it’s weird to hear him called that,” Rin muttered, scratching at the back of his head. “Uh, ‘Rin-chan’?”

“Yup. Mind if I call you that?”

“N-no, it’s fine.” They were sitting close enough that Whiskey could hear Rin’s pulse race, flushing color into his cheeks. Ruma still observed with a lazy smirk. “But, yeah, that’s Yukio for ya. Though I didn’t know he was an exorcist or a teacher or anything…”

Whiskey shot Ruma a glare—the clear sign to pull the conversation in a different direction. Ruma coughed and sat up a bit straighter. “Well, Mocha-chan and I just learned about this stuff a month or so ago,” she said, and Whiskey wondered how talking about _that_ was supposed to improve the atmosphere. “But we’re adjusting okay, so you should, too.” Ruma flashed a smile that, while not as shining as Mocha’s, seemed to do the job of easing Rin’s nerves a bit.

“Right.” A server brought the next table over their dishes, and Rin perked up as a fresh lay of meat and seasonings hit the air. “So what did you guys want?” he asked, picking up his menu with a grin. “Are we gonna get our own stuff, or one of those group plates? Man, I wanna try everything. I’ve never gotten to come to one of these before…”

Considering his home situation, that wasn’t much of a surprise. Shiro would have gotten a decent stipend as the Paladin, and his entire church had been staffed by True Cross exorcists as well, including Yukio. But Shiro had never cared for the vainglory of his position, plus he liked the lifestyle of a simple priest…or at least he did now, according to Mephisto.

Whiskey didn’t feel curious enough to press for more details. She was sure it was best to deal without them.

So Rin wouldn’t have had much free money to go out with. Yukio would have had his income as an exorcist, but that boy was too serious to do much with it than buy supplies and save the rest away—Whiskey had seen that firsthand. In comparison, the amount of free money Whiskey had grown up with was ludicrous.

_So there’s nothing wrong with spreading the wealth a bit, then._ “If you wanted to get a lot, it’s fine by me,” she offered. Ruma went wide-eyed for a vulnerable second, and even Mocha ceased her fidgeting. “Yes, I’ll include you two, too. But if you don’t finish your homework tonight, you’re paying me back.”

The stipulation must’ve fallen on deaf ears for the amount of meat they ended up with at their table. Rin was, as advertised, a decent cook, and he prepared their meals with skill and finesse. If Ruma and Mocha hadn’t been on board for becoming his friend before, they were now. Between Ruma and Rin’s stomachs, every last scrap of food they ordered disappeared. Whiskey’s stomach almost ached in protest from the amount of food she had shoved down her throat.

Very much worth it, though.

Yasu’s prediction had been true, and the dinnertime traffic stayed low enough that shuffling the stuffed group over to a table more acclimate to homework was an easy feat. Getting everyone to concentrate was a different matter, but knocking Mocha into work mode cut off Ruma’s biggest distractor of conversation. Rin muttered as he read, pushing his bangs back on his forehead as he glared at the book.

Whiskey didn’t blame him. Grimoire lit was not an easy to navigate subject for people who had just been dropped into the world of exorcisms or had a hard time reading, and Rin seemed like both. Whiskey’s familiarity with the subject through stories her father had told her as a child gave her an unfair advantage.

But Rin persevered—either out of a sense of determination or because he didn’t want to not pay Whiskey back for covering his dinner. She couldn’t tell. He even managed to fill out the Demon Pharmaceuticals worksheet Yukio had assigned them, though half the answers looked like they had been written down at random.

Telling herself it wasn’t prying if Rin was her friend, Whiskey went to say something just as Yasu approached their table. “It’s good to see you kids working so hard, but you’ll be late for curfew if you stay too long.” Whiskey realized she was right. Mocha sucked up the rest of her drink as she closed her notebook, and Ruma held out an impatient hand for the cellphone Whiskey had confiscated at the start of the session. “Thanks for stopping by, everyone. Come back soon!” If Whiskey didn’t know Yasu well enough from being a regular, she’d have said it was her tipping habits that influenced the warm welcome.

Rin grumbled at his remaining homework, but joined the rest in packing up anyway. “You still have some left?” Whiskey asked, keeping her tone light. Rin groaned. “Sorry, I took up a lot of your time earlier. You could’ve been studying…”

“No, no, I don’t mind!” Rin protested before they could even finish standing up properly. Mocha stretched her arms to the ceiling, and Ruma stretched hers higher, overtaking the other girl in height. Mocha puffed out her cheeks. “I’ve never been good at studying, so I was putting it off… Getting together like this helped a lot, so thanks.”

“Ruma-chan’s the same way,” Mocha offered, earning a scowl from the redhead. “I know, we should all get together and study more often. It’s more fun when there’s a group of people, plus Whiskey-chan knows how to keep everyone in line. We can even invite your brother!”

So Mocha was still pushing that angle. If it got Yukio to make human contact, Whiskey was fine with it.

“Sounds fun,” Rin agreed, “though I’m not sure Yukio will come so easily.”

“Oh, trust me, he’s never dealt with Haruhana Mocha before…”

Their conversation spilled out onto the street, the night sky above the neon lights of True Cross Academy Town’s shopping district. In the crisp night air, a scent caught in Whiskey’s nose, out of place, but still somehow familiar.

It was gone before she could even try to figure out what it was.


	7. Chapter Six

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Six

* * *

The rest of the week followed without further incident and, if Whiskey tried hard enough, she could pretend she was an ordinary student. Classes started in earnest for True Cross Academy, and the cram school courses kept up as advertised, cramming basic knowledge into the students’ heads. Rin worked hard, even if his grades didn’t come back perfect, and the regular homework meetups were a great way for Whiskey to feel like she was making progress, despite the unnaturalness of the subject matter.

So it stood to reason that Mephisto would call her home, on Sunday afternoon of all times, just so fate could laugh about Whiskey thinking things would be quiet.

“You seem tense, Whiskey darling,” Mephisto fussed, tilting his head back at her. The weather wasn’t warmed up enough at all for it, but Whiskey’s father had taken to his pink yukata for home wear. Sitting in an oversized beanbag didn’t do much for his image, either. “Whatever’s on your mind?”

Whiskey gave in to plop into her own matching beanbag across from her father. If he kept proposing meetups like the one in progress, she’d never be able to go without her magic key home. “I love you very much, Vati, but I think you’re being a bit clingy,” she teased. “I haven’t even been away from home for a week, and you’re already calling me home.”

“You did call first, my dear. Since I missed you the first time around, I figured you’d appreciate having a talk in person, instead.” He knew Whiskey hated talking on the phone with other people around. It was something simple, but she smiled a bit. “You didn’t leave a voice mail, so I couldn’t tell what you needed.”

Her father’s grin made Whiskey’s own drop. Thinking of how frustrated she had been earlier in the week brought embarrassment to mind. She had learned manners, but that did nothing to stop her temper. Knowing this was very well another one of Mephisto’s politics and information practices, Whiskey considered her next words.

What was she supposed to tell him? That Yukio needed help? That Whiskey couldn’t accept that help wasn’t her at the moment? No, none of those things mattered, and none of them had been the reason why she called.

“Why didn’t you let me fight the hobgoblins the first day of class?” she asked. She had meant to sound more controlled, more ready for an answer. Instead, Whiskey found she sounded too much like a little girl. “I could’ve helped. It wouldn’t be the first time I made a bunch of hobgoblins Submit.” That time, confidence plucked into her tone, even if it was forced.

Mephisto leaned farther back into his beanbag. At the very least, he hadn’t made a huge mess since Whiskey had left. The few scattered snack wrappings made her grimace a bit, but it was acceptable. Belial would be able to take care of it.

“Well,” Mephisto drawled, enjoying his view of the ceiling, “I thought you wouldn’t want to make much of a scene on your first day.” He tilted his head back up, giving his daughter a good look. “Don’t seem so conflicted. I know that even with me for a father, you’ve done well at blending in with humans. Didn’t you say you wanted to keep that up, even now?”

He knew her insecurities. He never jabbed at them, but it wasn’t beyond Mephisto to give Whiskey little reminders, so she could try to grow past them—he was just that kind of father. He wanted her to be prepared for the every eventuality, as it would be hard for her to escape her position as his daughter.

She didn’t want to break the family bond between them.

_I just don’t want to be judged for it._

“I do want to blend in; I just don’t want others to get hurt because of it.” Whiskey had tried ignoring the demonic problems around her before. Ruma and Mocha were the evidence of that. They were her responsibility. “If there’s something I can do to stop trouble from brewing, then of course I’ll use my abilities.” She refused to act too late, ever again.

“Excellent!” Without so much as radiating a speck of his demonic aura, Mephisto summoned a flurry of confetti that sprayed right into his daughter’s face. “Since that’s the case, would you mind taking on a little chore for me? All the other exorcists on campus have their own missions at the moment, and I think you taking on the case would be more…prudent.”

Whiskey frowned, brushing confetti into her lap. Not that it mattered since the colorful mess had rained on the floor as well. “What do you mean? What’s happening?”

“There’s been a demon sighted around campus.” Whiskey’s hackles raised in an instant, her tail protesting against the back of her blouse. “Do remain seated. It’s nothing harmful at the moment, but it could cause some troubles. I’d usually leave cases like these to first-year cram school students, but your classmates are still Pages, after all. They’re not ready for the practical experience.”

“Why not send Yukio-kun, then?” Just bringing the boy up made Whiskey want to complain about how he was ignoring her, but the concern felt so trivial in comparison. “You could even make it a lesson—let everyone see how an exorcism is done.”

“Ah, but we already showed that off spectacularly with the hobgoblins, didn’t we, dear?” He did have a point. Mephisto clapped, a pink puff of smoke providing a table for him to lean against. “Besides, there’s no sense in exorcising this one. If we act too harsh, it’ll come back with friends.” Assiah and Gehenna were linked, after all. Any demon could come back so long as it had the appropriate host. “A little catch-and-release is for the best, and I can think of no one suited to the task more than you, Whiskey-chan.”

Whiskey almost protested that she didn’t have any room left in her Submission, but that was a lie. It had been two months since her last intake—plenty of time for every demon she had taken in then to weaken, for their strength to be sapped away to become part of hers. She had even opened the door with no problems in preparation to fight the hobgoblins before.

A small demon that would be a suitable target for first year students past the Page level? Whiskey had handled worse in elementary school.

Mephisto’s face shifted from its grin to a near concern. Whiskey felt there wasn’t anyone else who got to see her father’s expressions like that. Not without difficulty. “I don’t want you to think I don’t believe in your ability,” he said, reading the insecurity rolling around in Whiskey’s gut. “I just want what’s best for you. If you’d rather I give the assignment to someone else, I’ll just shuffle it into the True Cross’s paperwork.”

“I’ll do it.” Mephisto gave her an amused look. Whiskey gathered the confetti scattered about her as she stood, though a few pieces still fluttered to the floor. She gave her father the most pleasant grin she could muster. “But not because you’re trying to flatter me into it. Because I think it’s for the best. There’s no sense in leaving this for later if I can take care of it now.”

Determination set, Whiskey strode towards the door—but not without pausing to dump her collection of confetti on her father’s head. “Do clean up after your mess, Vati.”

Mephisto laughed, loud enough to follow her through the door and down the hall. “Do your best, Whiskey-chan. I’ll be waiting for the results!”

* * *

Whiskey knew better than to make a big deal out of hunting demons. Part of that was because she was a demon herself, and bragging about it just seemed unnecessary. The other part was that Ruma and Mocha would get far too enthusiastic about the concept if let in on the secret, and a week’s worth of training wasn’t enough to make them prepared, even for the lowest level of demon combat.

So she sent them a text that she would be spending the afternoon with her father and not to wait for her to get back to go to dinner, then left the Faust mansion through the front door.

The whole of True Cross Academy Town stood beneath her. Looking straight forward granted a few of the sky for what stretched out for miles, the amount of visible land and road a mere fraction in comparison. Other civilization was a mere hour’s drive away, but the town felt like a standalone in the vast land, more fit to a cinematic anime film than reality. Whiskey would’ve suspected that was what her father had been going for, had he not settled the town farther back than filmography had reached Japan.

The vast amount of ground to the town just meant that many places for the demon to hide. Mephisto had mentioned its presence around campus, but the smell she had caught on heading down to the shopping district hadn’t faded. She had been catching traces of the scent all week. Whatever the demon was, it could hide its presence, but not without the occasional slip.

Whiskey lifted a hand to her temple and sighed. “Good grief.”

Striding away from her front door, Whiskey took a deep breath, and released more of her demonic aura than she had before. Unlike when she had gone searching for Rin, the increase of power forced changes onto her body. She could feel the points of her ears extending, her teeth sharpening, even her nails pointed. Every hair along her tail raised from the increased perception, and, without her father to criticize her for a lack of decorum, Whiskey untucked her shirt to let the appendage flick free.

The Faust manor rested on the uppermost level of True Cross Academy town, with no other buildings or residences, and the path was obscured unless Mephisto granted guests access. While none of the sounds came from her level, Whiskey could still hear the voices of students and residents alike chattering on the levels below her. The scent of the remains of lunch hour swirled in an appetizing aroma.

But it wasn’t the smell Whiskey was hoping to find. She wasn’t close enough.

Preparing herself for the overload her father’s presence would give her, Whiskey opened up her aura perception. Even with her efforts to ignore it and Mephisto’s dampers on his own aura as to not alert others of his location, his presence still sent shivers down her spine. Perhaps it was because she hadn’t sensed him in that way for so long or the blood bond they shared that made Whiskey so aware of what he felt like.

But Mephisto had taught her precision in her awareness, as he had been teaching her to control the instinct to always be aware of the demons around her as a child. Tasting the contradictory stagnant but animated essence of Space and Time, Whiskey forced her perception of that element off.

Her overwhelming presence dissipated, as did Whiskey’s awareness of her own aura, but a subtle thrum still held between them. As kin of Space and Time, Whiskey would never be able to stop that connection. But without the distraction, it made it much easier to focus on the demonic activity in the town below.

There would always be demonic activity, no matter how the Order of the True Cross tried. There were extremists who considered this a great loss, but most understood Assiah needed Gehenna for both to exist. There were a number of weak and otherwise harmless demons that weren’t great cause for exorcism. It was the ones who hurt humans that tended to be hunted down and exorcised.

Coal Tars were great in number no matter the area; they were attracted to Whiskey like flies to honey, so she had long since learned to ignore their presence. She had done the same with the number of familiar demonic auras that she had grown up around in town. Still blazing, even from the distance between them, Rin’s aura stood out like a pinprick on the far edge of the town.

_That’s a bit farther from his dorm. What’s he up to?_ Whiskey shook her head. _You’re supposed to be support, not his keeper. Focus on the job so it can get over with._

There were a number of miscellaneous demon presences across the Academy grounds—nine that had any chance of being something troublesome. That number was multiplied when Whiskey observed the town as a whole, but she could save those in case the ones on campus turned out to be dead ends.

Making note of the closest one, Whiskey scaled back her abilities so her appearance would remain normal. She let her tail stay free. And hoping she could resolve the matter before curfew, Whiskey jogged towards the academy.

* * *

Given that True Cross Academy was a boarding school, a large number of the campus facilities were still open to students on the weekends. And while it looked like a decent fraction of the student body was enjoying their weekend elsewhere, the number of remaining students across campus was high enough that Whiskey couldn’t conduct her search as fast as she would have liked.

Not that it would have mattered much as every demonic presence Whiskey located wasn’t doing anything worth her bothering with—at the least, relocating the particular kin of spirits she found wouldn’t change their behavior. She supposed she could have waited for more information, and her phone stuck as an option in her pocket, but Mephisto was testing her.

He wanted to see if she could handle figuring out which demons were threats and which weren’t. It was one of his oldest tests, and Whiskey could pass it, even with the added level of difficulty.

She switched to reconnaissance in the town, but came up blank each time. Every now and then the scent from before would waft past on the air, but Whiskey couldn’t pinpoint its source. It was evening by the time she dragged herself back up to campus, nearing the cusp of curfew, and she still didn’t have any leads. She reassessed the campus, but received the same results as before, save for Rin back in his dorm for the day.

_Where the hell is this damn thing?_ Whiskey griped as she crossed campus. Not even the other students were daring enough to still be out so late at night with classes the next morning._ Did I scale too high on my assessment? Too low? Is it hiding? Vati does let miscellaneous demons of all kinds live here if they don’t cause trouble, but none of the ones here seemed like someone was invading their territory. What if—? _

Whiskey squawked as she pitched forward. She managed to toss a hand out, and her demon’s blood kept her hand from scraping on the cobblestones. Adjusting to rest on her knees, Whiskey turned behind her to see what she had tripped on.

And there it was.

Under the moonlight was a demon just over half a meter tall. It looked very much like it had been cobbled together from various toys, then dumped in a vat of pure white paint. Even its eyes were colorless as they stared at Whiskey.

Then it snickered.

“You little shit!” Whiskey hissed, diving forward. The demon jumped out of the way, striking out with a white stick. The impact glanced Whiskey’s forehead and drew blood, but she held back the hiss. At safe distance, the demon crossed its legs and leaned on its stick, almost if using it as a cane. “What the hell _are_ you?”

Whiskey knew a fair number of demons. She had grown up in the presence of many. She had been exposed to plenty more when the Order had gotten word of her powers. The rest she had been taught by her father, so she knew what her abilities could and couldn’t handle. Her logical guess was a Galatea—a demon possessing a doll—but it didn’t smell like kin of spirits.

It didn’t smell like anything.

The demon didn’t bother to give her an answer, or a chance to think things through. It tapped its makeshift cane on the ground twice, then charged forward. Whiskey unleashed her abilities again, springing to her feet and out of the way. She reached into her Submission, drew from the power stored there, and healed the wound on her forehead before blood could cloud her vision.

The demon nodded and extended its cane like a sword. Its second blow came faster and harder.

Whiskey attempted a dodge, but the small yet forceful point of impact slammed into her arm, tearing through her jacket. The demon landed behind her, and Whiskey snarled as she turned to face it. It tapped its stick on the ground twice, then its mouth broke open into a pointed grin.

_It’s trying to play with me._

“Like I have the patience for that,” she spat, dragging more energy from her Submission. She let go of her arm, blood smeared on her palm, but the wound closed. She’d have to ditch the jacket, though. “Listen, I don’t know what you want, but you can’t stay here. So I’m gonna give you one option to leave quietly before I make you.”

The demon cocked its head, and raised its weapon again by way of refusal.

“Well, you asked for it.” Whiskey tapped into her abilities one more time. Instead of pulling open the doors so she could take energy out, she _pushed_ them inward. “It’s been a few months since I’ve let anything inside, so there should be plenty of room for you.”

A pure white blur, the pseudo-Galatea shot forward, its stick aimed at Whiskey’s chest. She didn’t bother taking a dodge and spread her arms wide open. The demon made contact, the blow throwing Whiskey back, but she managed to lock her opponent in an embrace, then howled to the heavens:

“_Submit!_”


	8. Chapter Seven

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Seven

* * *

Whiskey’s back hit the cobblestones beneath her first, and she could feel the demon’s cane start to press towards her heart, tearing further through her clothes. But before blood could be drawn, the demon’s form faded. Not gone, not exorcised, but inside her.

With the King of Space and Time as her father, Whiskey had been born with a pocket inside her—one that allowed entry and containment of demons. It seemed that many of Mephisto’s children over the centuries had variances of his power. While Whiskey couldn’t do a thing to affect the outside world around her, within her dimension, her control was absolute.

Not that she liked using it, though. Even at that moment, the demon was still alive inside her. If it stayed long enough, its power would dwindle and become part of Whiskey’s. Not its abilities, but its strength. And while she couldn’t deny the benefits of that, she was far more concerned with what could happen if her demonic abilities grew even farther.

“But I still can’t tell what it is…” Whiskey mumbled, placing a hand to her chest. She’d have a nasty bruise, but she could take that much. Inside her Submission, the demon shifted, but it couldn’t get a read on its situation any more than its captor could get a read on it. Knowing that her Submission tended to set off a flare, Whiskey dimmed her demonic aura back to the normal concealed setting and breathed. “I’d take it to Vati, but I’ll be late getting back to the dorms like this…”

Ruma would just say to use her father’s position, but Whiskey didn’t want to do that. The captured demon had a manageable enough level that Whiskey could keep it contained until the next day at the very least. She’d just have to stop by his office after Monday’s classes to take care of the matter.

Assessing her appearance, Whiskey tugged off her jacket and tied it around her wrist. The demon had ripped a smaller hole in her t-shirt, but not big enough to be noticed by the dorm assistants when she walked in. She wiped her bloody palm off onto the jacket, too, then headed back home, slipping in just a few minutes before nine.

Ruma and Mocha didn’t object when she slipped off to the bath for the last hour before lights out, and Whiskey tried to relax as she soaked into the water. But the mystery demon was still inside her, and the question of what it was ran through her head all the way until she slipped off to sleep for the night.

* * *

“I’d say a Galatea is somewhat accurate,” Mephisto mused, as the small demon hopped around his office. Whiskey watched it with a harsh glare as the white thing poked its nose into every last drawer, curtain, and couch cushion, dancing all the way. “As you know, demons can only interact with Assiah by forcing their presence onto an aspect there. The difference is that this one here manipulated the physical appearance of the husk to a point where it wouldn’t restore, even upon being exorcised.” The demon hopped onto Mephisto’s hat, sending the brim into the man’s eyes. He shooed it off. “I believe it doesn’t have an accessible kingdom affiliation, which is why you couldn’t sense that. There are plenty of demons that the True Cross doesn’t know about.”

Whiskey clicked her tongue. “That would be more convincing if you hadn’t taught me most of the species of Gehenna,” she said.

Mephisto gave a broad smile. “My apologies. It is harder to teach some of the more obscure ones. When they are few in number and often don’t venture up to Assiah, their relevance becomes very minimal. I don’t believe this one even has a name.”

The demon pranced to the top of a lamp shade, then turned its head to Whiskey. She released a low growl, and it thought better of its next landing spot. Crossing her legs, Whiskey watched as the demon decided to scale the chandelier instead. “So what does it _want_?”

“It challenged you to a duel, didn’t it?” her father asked. Whiskey scoffed. _Tripping_ wasn’t a very classy way to initiate any sort of fight; not on her end at the very least. “It enjoys testing the strength of other demons. As mentioned, in most places, this wouldn’t be a large issue. But when it starts to hang around campus when we have you and Okumura-kun here…”

He didn’t need to finish that sentence for Whiskey to understand. “So why didn’t it try to fight me again? Or go after you for that matter?” she asked. The demon had landed back on Mephisto’s desk, getting into a staring contest with one of his figures. Its weapon from the previous night was nowhere in sight.

Mephisto kept a sharp gaze on the demon, making sure it just watched the figure, not touch it. “Well, your Submission seems to have done the job of convincing it you’re the superior opponent.” The demon bowed to the figure, then dived towards the door, if the thud was any indication. “As for me, wouldn’t you say I’m a rather foolish individual to pick a fight with?”

“Fair enough.” As his daughter, Whiskey knew well enough what Mephisto was capable of. Not everything, but enough to leave an impact. “Well, he can’t say on campus with Rin-kun and I here,” she agreed. Her father’s eyes flashed in amusement, but Whiskey tried to ignore that. “Where are you going to take him?”

“Oh, we’ll be taking him somewhere rather far out of the way, I assure you.” Whiskey narrowed her eyes at the choice in pronouns. Mephisto tapped his gloved finger to his desk. “Come now, Whiskey-chan, you’ve been holding your veritable encyclopedia of the kin of Earth inside you without drawing on them at all. Wouldn’t you rather just let them all go?”

Awareness of her Submission sparked to life for Whiskey, and she gripped her hands together in her lap. It wasn’t accurate to say she hadn’t been drawing on them—it was just the passive effects of her ability. But she hadn’t touched the reserves of energy from the demons held within her, save for the boost to her healing the night before.

They had been tamed, drawn into an acceptance of their position, but that held true inside her and nowhere else.

“I’m not just going to set out a bundle of demons just anywhere, even if they’ve been held up for months,” Whiskey said, once she had steadied her breath. Mephisto nodded, expecting her answer. It scared her how well he could read her sometimes, as if it was more than most men could read their daughters. “Last time they were out and about, they decided it was fit to strike an attack in an area under _your_ jurisdiction. I want them away from humans.”

“I had no intentions of doing otherwise,” Mephisto assured, and Whiskey didn’t get a sense of dread from those words. At times, her father was just as shrewd with her as he was with everyone else. Others, he was just Whiskey’s Vati. “It’ll be a bit of a trip, but I’ll speed things up. You can drag all that negativity out from inside you, then it’ll be back to the ordinary, my dear.” He stood, offering his hand to Whiskey. “Shall we?”

Whiskey considered the options—but she knew it would feel good to clear out her Submission, to not have to worry about the weight that they added inside her. It would also give a reassurance that the unnamed demon would be somewhere very far away from it all.

Father and daughter embraced hands. “Alright, let’s get go—”

Her agreeance was cut off as the demon launched itself at the back of Whiskey’s head, almost sending her crashing into Mephisto’s desk. Instead, there was the familiar lurch in space-time, all the more obvious in Whiskey’s affinity. The desk vanished, leaving nothing but an expanse of green grass before her, the air much warmer than the artificial heat of her father’s office.

Mephisto steadied Whiskey, his hand holding its grip tight around hers, the other pushing her back up by the shoulder. Unlike most people would have, Whiskey didn’t have to shake off any dizziness from the sudden teleportation. Balanced, she spun around to the white demon, who was seated on the ground and rubbing its head.

“Oh, you think you’re funny, do ya?” she said, towering over it. “Let’s see if you think it’s funny when I kick your sorry ass straight into—”

“My goodness, I do believe I taught you better than that,” Mephisto scolded, but not without his usual amusement to his tone. Whiskey flushed at the reprimand, and the demon on the ground snickered. The almost chittering sound pushed at Whiskey’s frayed nerves, but she resisted the urge to curb stomp it into the earth. “It doesn’t matter how far out you are from civilization, dear, you must always act civilized.”

That caught Whiskey’s attention enough to check her surroundings. Clouds showed as much as the sky as it showed them. Grass didn’t just carpet the ground beneath her, but spread out in all directions, connecting with the flourishes of color amongst green in the distance: a rainforest, if she was correct in identifying the fauna. The air wasn’t just warmer, it was muggy and near unbearable. Sweat prickled underneath her collar.

But the discomfort didn’t change how fresh the air smelled. True Cross Academy Town, being less than acclimate to most cars, didn’t have very much air pollution. But even that would seem plagued with smoke and grime compared to where Whiskey stood. If she were younger, she would have ran off into the nature and the rolls of the land, squealing with excitement.

Except she was there as an exorcist, not a child, even if it was a trip with her father. Whiskey squinted up at the sky, past sunrise, but still in the phases of early morning. “Africa?” she guessed, gaining a nod from her father. “I get coming somewhere away from settlements, but why here?”

Mephisto came to stand by her side, examining the landscape before them. “Like I mentioned, our little friend here likes to challenge other demons.” Whiskey glowered down at the pure white demon, who bounced around in a broken tap dance. “There are plenty of ancient species who make this their home who should keep it occupied for some time to come.”

There were, and Whiskey could feel them—pulsing, in the distance, one with the land. Not in that they were kin of Earth (though some were), but in that they had resided so long in the place that their very bones resonated with the continent. Her father could stand without any concern due to his position, but even as his child Whiskey shuddered from the sheer power they radiated. Yes, it would keep the pseudo-Galatea occupied for some time, if not destroy it.

“And the lot of what I’m releasing will blend right in with the nature here,” Whiskey finished her father’s reasoning. In her rested numerous kin of Earth that had once filled her Submission to capacity. Some would make their homes there, others would be torn apart for trespassing on another demon’s territory, but none would cause amiss in the natural order for their presence. Not like they had done two months ago, rampant in the town. Whiskey took a deep breath. “Vati, you promise that you’ll make sure this doesn’t go out of control?”

Cracks opened in her Submission, enough to let the aura of the land meet those inside her, and the demons became alert. They could sense her intent to let them free. None harmed her, but they grasped and clawed at the openings.

“I promise,” Mephisto said, hand over his chest, and Whiskey flung the doors open.

What felt like a punch to her diaphragm knocked every fragment of wind from her lungs. Whiskey choked and doubled over, even though she knew to the outside eye it would seem like nothing was happening. Her own space and time aura leaked into the air around her, clashing with the world for a moment, and residual Coal Tars popped into existence first.

Then the rest of them came.

Whiskey didn’t see them all, nor did she want to. The hobgoblins, the green men, the golems—she could feel each one of them as they disappeared from her influence. Releasing the pseudo-Galatea hadn’t been anything, a routine release. But having so many demons clamoring to escape pushed the edges of her Submission and ripped the exit she had provided wider.

And it got worse as the higher level demons surfaced.

She tried not to think of the greater kin of Earth that were leaving her now, of what they had been doing when she had made them Submit in the first place. The pain of her soul getting torn at in passing made that much easy. She didn’t realize she had been screaming until her throat started to feel hoarse, but she didn’t stop the process. She had come this far.

_I want them out. I want them out I want them out I want them out._

There were a few demons who didn’t seem to have any intent to leave, even with the tantalizing atmosphere waiting for them. Whiskey dug under them, flinging them out, too. She could hear it snort as it was dispelled, the rumble of its steps as it walked away. She didn’t watch, keeping her eyes clenched tight so to hold back the stinging forming beneath her eyelids, to keep the pain starting to form in the front of her skull at bay.

And then she realized just how far she was reaching and slammed the doors shut. The forceful cutoff paired with the shredding exit took the last of the strength from her legs. Whiskey hit the ground, managing to catch herself in a sit before she ended up with African wild grass smeared all over her uniform. Somewhat mushing dirt stuck to her palms.

For a moment—or several minutes, it was hard to tell—all she could hear was the sound of her own ragged breaths. A shadow fell over her, but her instinctual reaction to her father’s presence quelled any sense of panic. Mephisto’s gloved hands rested on her shoulders, and Whiskey opened her eyes to his concerned expression.

“You didn’t have to be that aggressive with them,” he said. That time, it was less of a scolding and more worry. Whiskey coughed, snapping a palm over her mouth. She could feel mucus, but didn’t smell any blood. “Your Submission hasn’t been stretched so far since you took them all in. You could’ve torn yourself much worse if you weren’t careful.”

“Just wanted…it over with.” There wasn’t much left to do with the mess in her hand than smear it on the grass. Whiskey kept her eyes on her lap, wary of any peripheral movement. “Did they…gone?”

She looked up to see her father’s frown. “Yes, they’re all gone,” he assured. Whiskey let out a breath. Without energy to pull from her Submission, her throat still felt raw, but her half-blood status would quicken the process. “Can you stand?”

Whiskey willed herself to have strength and tried to push herself up. Mephisto offered his hands to hers. She felt like a child again, all those years ago, and the first time she had pushed her Submission beyond her limits. Shiro had been the one helping her then. Back upright, albeit on unsteady legs, she tried to figure out the time based on the sun in the sky. How many hours was Africa from Japan again?

“Is there anything else we need to do here?” she asked, voice not giving much more than a whisper. The pseudo-Galatea seemed to be gone, run off with the hoard of unleashed demons, no doubt. The land still thrummed with its natural and ancient powers. Unless her father had another demon he needed to transport—and Whiskey shuddered at the thought of opening her Submission again so soon—there wasn’t much need to stay on the outskirts of some foreign rainforest. “I left my bag in your office. And I’ll need to switch it out before Cram School…” They had class with Yukio that day, and she still needed to introduce him to Mocha, if nothing else.

“And where were you planning on going like that?” Mephisto asked, his pastel glove pointing to her attire. Dirt clung to bits of her uniform. More mucus that she must’ve coughed up during the release speckled her tie. Having come from inside her soul, the demons hadn’t torn at her clothes, too, but she still felt like there was a shredded hole in her stomach. The bruise over her heart from the previous night’s fight throbbed. “You at least need a tidy up, then something to eat before you think of going anywhere. That means sitting down, too.”

Mephisto’s hand continued to support her at the elbow, not leaving Whiskey any other option. One click of his fingers was enough to put her uniform back in pristine condition, a second shifting them back through space. Her father ushered Whiskey onto a seat on his office couch, and within seconds had a full assortment of food on the coffee table between them, down to her favorite chili instant ramen.

There wasn’t much point in arguing with her father when he decided to play mother hen. So Whiskey took the time to recuperate, ignoring the buzz of her phone in her pocket to let her know class would be starting. Ruma and Mocha knew she was checking in with her father and would be able to relay the message to Yukio.

Considering that she had been raised pretty much with anything she had ever wanted, it took a lot for Whiskey to feel alright with pampering herself. Her father held no such regards. She did feel better with food in her stomach, and she could feel the influence of Mephisto’s presence on her Submission repairing itself. The conversation drifted towards the anime and manga releases of the past week, and after a solid hour of recovery, Whiskey could stand without support. Her wounds had rested, and the edgings of her headache had faded away.

“It hasn’t been too long since class started,” she said, checking the time on her phone. “Thanks for the help, Vati, but I’d like to get going before it gets too late, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it.” Ruma and Mocha were relentless like that.

Mephisto dabbed a napkin to his lips before making it disappear with a puff of smoke and flourish worthy of a magician. “You do seem stable enough,” he allowed. “I know you don’t use it regularly, but try to hold off on opening your Submission for a week, either in or out.” Whiskey nodded her understanding. “Good. Now off you go!”

He had the decency to put her back in her dorm at the very least. Whiskey swapped her bags and pulled out her key. She didn’t feel quite up to running, but she managed a short jog to the classroom, knocking on the door before entering. Yukio still stood at the blackboard, and she apologized for her tardiness.

“I’ve been informed of your circumstances,” Yukio said, forgoing the need for an explanation. “Do get seated, Pheles-san, and we’ll continue the lecture. Now, as for the properties…”

Whiskey turned to the class as everyone’s eyes shifted back to the lesson. She had prepared a reassuring smile, just to let Rin know she was okay, but it slipped away in the second she made eye contact.

Because in Whiskey’s seat beside Rin was someone else.


	9. Chapter Eight

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Eight

* * *

Whiskey paused to look over the girl sitting next to Rin—blonde, staring at the chalkboard, and not in a True Cross Academy uniform. The half-demon beside her tossed Whiskey a concerned look, and Ruma behind them pointed to the empty desk beside her and Mocha. Coming back to herself, Whiskey crossed the room with as little noise as possible and settled in for class.

Yukio’s lecture for the day was picking back up on the basic exorcism plants they had been going over before. Whiskey had read what she had been assigned, but the mess with the pseudo-Galatea had chased the information from her head. Half of Yukio’s words sounded familiar, but it didn’t help that Whiskey kept sneaking glances at the blonde girl in _her _seat.

There was only so much you could tell about a person from staring at the back of their head. Her outfit seemed traditional, neat patterns in pastel colors. She had to have joined the exorcism course over the weekend, but not the regular Academy. Whiskey didn’t get a demonic reading from her, just plain, pureblooded human, but she did carry the scent of a garden that no shampoo or body wash could replicate.

_I feel like I’ve seen her before, though…_

Demon Pharmaceuticals came to an end much faster than Whiskey was prepared for, leaving them a short break before their next lesson. Rin picked up a conversation with the girl—_Shiemi_, Whiskey thought he said—but Ruma and Mocha surrounded Whiskey before she could even consider butting in.

“Everything go alright with your dad?” Mocha asked, courteous enough to keep her voice to a whisper. She leaned right up to Whiskey’s face, bringing the fragrance of her mint chewing gum along for the ride. “You don’t look so good, Whiskey-chan. Do you need a nap?”

“I’m okay,” she replied. Ruma hopped up on table before them, using her position to peer down on Whiskey, but didn’t make a comment. “Just some cleaning up from February. Kind of tiring, but I’ll make it through.”

Ruma’s brow furrowed, leaning closer so she didn’t have to speak too loud. “When you say cleaning up, you don’t mean that bastard’s back, do you?” Even quiet, her voice carried the hint of a growl. Having been on the receiving end, Whiskey knew how Ruma could hold grudges.

She shook her head, braid bouncing with light thumps on her back. “Nothing like that,” Whiskey assured. Ruma and Mocha both sighed in relief. Whiskey placed a hand to her chest. The bruise over her heart didn’t so much as throb from the contact. Mephisto might’ve healed it when Whiskey was distracted by the early dinner. “Vati took me somewhere I could…get rid of everything I picked up then.” Even though everyone else seemed immersed in their own conversations, the idea of saying it outright was uncomfortable. Whiskey made sure to keep up a smile. “But it’s all gone, and we won’t have to deal with it anymore.”

Ruma and Mocha exchanged knowing glances—ones that Whiskey knew were communicating concern, but also acceptance. “Okay, but if something happens, don’t take it all on by yourself, Whiskey-chan.” Mocha poked her small finger to Whiskey’s forehead. “I still say you need a nap, though.”

Considering the study time she had lost purging her Submission, Whiskey had to disagree, but she knew better than to argue with Mocha. Instead, she leaned to look around her friend, eyeing the blonde. “So, new girl?” she asked.

“Yup. Moriyama Shiemi,” Ruma provided, her arms crossed. For what she lacked in academic focus, Ruma made up for in other skills—like memorizing people’s names. Whiskey ran the name through her memory, but didn’t find a match, even if it did sound familiar. “It looks like she knows both the Okumura’s. Seems kinda chatty, but that’s just a guess. Jerk-sensei started class right after she introduced herself, so I didn’t get a good read on her.” With a thoughtful look, she glanced over to Moriyama.

Mocha snickered. “What’s up with that nickname, Ruma-chan?”

“Hm? ‘Cause he pissed Whiskey off, so that makes him a jerk right?” Ruma planted her sneakers on the closest empty chair. “Friend Code and all that.”

“True, true. Oh, I dare you to call him that to his face!”

“Seems counterproductive, don’t cha think? Might be fun, though…”

“I’m gonna veto that line of thought,” Whiskey said, checking the front of the room to see if Yukio had overheard. But he had already disappeared, to prepare his next lecture or something of the sort. _I wonder how the upperclassmen handle being taught by someone younger than them… Wait, this is a good chance._ “Actually, ladies I’m gonna bail and see if I can get our prestigious Sensei to talk to me about the beginning of the lesson.”

Ruma hopped down from her perch and smacked Whiskey’s shoulder in encouragement. “Don’t be late for the next class, too.”

“You’re horrible, Ruma-chan,” Mocha scolded between giggles. It took her until Whiskey reached the door to come to the realization. “Hey, Whiskey-chan stole my idea!”

* * *

The Exorcist Cram School building did have a collective teacher’s longue, but the place was also large enough with a small enough staff that each teacher could have their own office. Those rooms sat in a single hallway on the ground floor, and the chatter of teachers comparing notes on students and a few upperclassmen getting advice on their advanced practicums flitted through the air.

Whiskey knocked once on Yukio’s door, and got an answer within moments. Duties as a teacher overtook his brooding tendencies, it seemed. Whiskey made sure to shut the door behind her before crossing the room. The furniture was plain, and the decorations simple, though it looked more like a personal armory than a workspace. Everything was in line, just like his side of the twins’ dorm room. Yukio stopped writing with a furrowed brow when he saw her.

“Pheles-san, this is hardly—”

“The classwork,” she said, before he could shut down any social attempts. “I wanted to get at least a brief coverage of the beginning of the lecture so I didn’t miss anything.” She even waited for him to offer her the seat instead of just taking it, smirking at his befuddled expression. “I am taking becoming a Doctor seriously, you know. I do need a complete understanding of Demon Pharmaceuticals to do that.”

“Right…” Yukio pushed up his glasses before sorting through a folder on the desk beside him. Whiskey recognized the worksheet they had turned in earlier but didn’t read anyone’s answers. “I can provide you the lecture material, and if you want a consultation I can do that, too.”

Whiskey accepted the sheet, smoothing it out on the table in front of her. She hadn’t brought any of her class supplies with her. “I’ll start with this and if I have any questions I can come to you, right?” Yukio didn’t look pleased by the notion, but nodded. “Thanks. But I…” Whiskey wasn’t quite sure how to bring up the next words.

She didn’t have to because Yukio said, “If you insist on bringing up my personal loss one more time…”

“No,” Whiskey blurted. In hindsight, she realized that hadn’t been her intention at all. “I mean, yes, I’m worried about you. As your _friend_, I think that’s rational.” She paused a moment to let the word sink in. Yukio looked as if he had swallowed one of the more bitter medicine bottles on display behind him. “But I realize that pushing myself on you might not be what you need, and it could be better for you to just take a bit of time to heal.” She had considered it while relaxing with her father—that everyone had their routines for handling issues. Even if Yukio was holding things in, forcing him to let it out wouldn’t be about trust—it would be about attrition. “You are an introvert after all.”

The offered joke made Yukio smile, more than Whiskey had expected. There was still hesitation in it, more like a smile given in hopes that it would be real, but it stood as a smile nonetheless. “So says the girl who spent the first time we met staring at a handheld.”

“I couldn’t help it! The game had just come out and I needed to finish it before everyone online started posting spoilers.”

“I think your priorities could use some work, Pheles-san,” Yukio said, the amusement reaching his eyes for a moment. Whiskey could feel sadness still lingering in him, but he wasn’t going to let it out. Not yet, and maybe not even soon. “Beyond that, you were even late to class today. One week into classes is a bit early for playing tardy.”

Whiskey tutted at the dent in her record. If she had her way, she would maintain perfect attendance, but life always seemed to kick that idea in the teeth. “The girls told you I was with Vati, right?” The words tasted like ash. Again, using her father’s position, even if she _hadn’t_ been fit for class. “I don’t intend to make a habit of this, I assure you, Sensei.”

She had intended to keep the tone light, but Yukio didn’t seem to be following the hint. He stopped trying to multitask, clicking his pen and setting it down, parallel to the edge of his paper. “I noticed you were spending time with Nii-san, too,” he said. “Is that also because of something your father said?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Whiskey reared up, biting back the urge to bare her teeth. Something inside her soul still hurt, but that wouldn’t stop her from picking a fight. “You think that I’m hanging around you two because of some secret agenda from Vati?” When Yukio didn’t deny it, Whiskey slammed a hand down on the edge of his desk. “We’ve both grown up with powerful figures before us, but I’ve never _once_ judged you just because Shiro was your father.”

She had hoped to hit a point of understanding, but Yukio’s face twisted at the mention. Not in pure rage—he wasn’t the type for displays like that—but in hurt, conflict, and frustration.

Yukio stood, but Whiskey refused to balk at the difference in height. Her nails dug into the varnish on the desk, threatening to excavate splinters. “Sir Pheles,” Yukio said, his voice low and hollow, “and Father Fujimoto were completely different men, and you know it.”

The use of past tense tore at Whiskey for a moment, the reminder that Shiro was gone. But that felt nothing like the hurt that came from Yukio slinging accusations at her father—even if she knew they were well founded—and even worse came the fact that he’d suspect her on top of it.

As it been for some time, pain turned to shock turned to rage. “Don’t go talking about your father like he was some stranger!” Whiskey hissed. The only thing stopping her from yelling was the full offices around them. Yukio’s desk cracked as Whiskey’s nails grew to points, and the edges of her Submission burned, even with nothing left inside them ready to pull out. “Shiro-kun trusted Vati, and I do the same. But I don’t plan on being _anybody’s_ lapdog, so don’t you dare try to pull the same arguments on me I’ve heard ever since I was old enough to understand what people were saying to me.”

There was a pause that fit several heartbeats—Yukio’s thudded just as fast as hers, though they were nowhere in sync—then she added, “If you didn’t want to be my friend, you should’ve just said so.”

Yukio’s expression flickered. “Pheles-san—”

“Oh, forget it.” Whiskey snatched up the lecture notes, half preening and half disgusted at the gouge she had made in his desk. “I have a Demonology lecture to attend. Thanks for the notes. Don’t let me waste any more of your precious time, _Sensei_.”

To her credit, she didn’t slam the door on the way out. But she did spend the entire Demonology class scaring off any of the miniature golems they were studying that dared to get too close to her.

* * *

Rin yawned as class ended and stretched his arms. The lectures were still hard to get through, and he didn’t have the answers when he was called on, unlike some of his other classmates, but he had still made it to the end of the day. He might’ve dozed off a bit while in Grimoire Lit, but both he and Mocha had gotten a scolding, so it wasn’t his fault the subject bored people to sleep!

Shiemi, while looking confused half the time, too, seemed to still be all smiles. It was nice to have another friend in class, even if they’d just met the day before. Sure, it would have been even better if she wasn’t so excited about spending more time with Yukio, but Rin couldn’t win them all. If anything, he needed to reach out to Shiemi as support, even if he wasn’t sure how to.

“That was amazing,” Shiemi gushed, waving her sleeves about. “I didn’t understand all of it, but I’ve never gotten to go to school like this before. Rin, is school always like this? I love it!”

Rin scratched at the back of his neck, not sure what to say. Sure, the subjects were different, but the Cram School and regular classes ran pretty much the same way. It was hard enough keeping up with one, let alone them both. “Well, kinda. School’s always been tough for me, so it’s not always exciting.” Shiemi’s expression dropped, and Rin backpedaled. “B-but I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Classes are like this every day, so yeah!”

And just like that, Shiemi’s smile blossomed back into place. Unlike Mocha’s unending enthusiasm and rainbows, Shiemi’s carried a much more relaxed beauty to it. “Thank goodness,” she said, sounding wistful. “Oh, Mom wanted me back home right after class ended.” She rushed to gather up her things. There were more books than the small drawstring bag she had brought could fit, but Shiemi made do. “I’ll have to study hard to catch up… See you tomorrow, Rin!”

She headed for the door so fast that Rin worried she might trip. _Right, studying._ He still had a lot of homework for the next day, let alone the week. Yukio would be out, which made it harder to study in the dorms (not that Rin would admit it out loud). Hoping he wasn’t being a nuisance, Rin swiveled in his seat. “Hey, Whiskey, do you think we could—”

“Sorry, but I had a rough afternoon. I’m going to study by myself then sleep.” Whiskey’s tone carried a sharp notice of _Don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise._ His bag was packed and the other half-demon was the next one out the door, blue braid flicking with his stride.

“Oi, Whiskey, rude!” Ruma shouted, but there was no reply. The redhead caught Rin’s eye. “Sorry, it’s been a while since she’s been like this. She’ll cool down, but it’ll take time.”

Rin thought back to the first conversation they had had: _I just don’t hurt people like I used to._ He could tell that Whiskey hadn’t meant like this, that he had _hurt_ people the same why Rin had, but that didn’t stop the betrayal swirling in his gut.

“You wanted to study today, right?” Mocha asked. Unlike her usual twin tails, she had settled for a high ponytail in gym and hadn’t taken it down. Rin nodded. “Well, I can’t foot a bill like Whiskey can, but there are tons of great spots of campus where we can study without getting interrupted. Let’s go hit one of those.”

Ruma raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you know where good places to study are?”

Mocha held up her index finger. “One, because I made some friends in my class who were chatting about it.” A second finger joined the first. “Two, because Whiskey has a list of possible study places she keeps in her bag, and I went snooping.”

“That’s an awful habit you have there.”

Mocha scoffed. “Okay, _Ane-san_, do correct me on proper etiquette.”

“That’s Whiskey’s gig, not mine.”

Rin followed the exchange, not sure of a clever remark to add in. “So…we _can_ study together?” he tried, hoping to get a handle on the conversation.

_“Of course,”_ both girls answered in unison, Mocha with much more immediate enthusiasm. Relief graced Rin’s mind. Sure, Whiskey had been the first to reach out to him, and they shared the understanding of being a half-demon. But Whiskey didn’t have to be Rin’s only friend, and he would be stupid to waste the opportunity.

“Alright, let’s do it then.” Rin bounded to his feet before realizing his class supplies were still left sprawled across his desk. His notes were half-written, and he couldn’t even remember all the work he had to do. He ducked his head in embarrassment as he packed his bag. How were conversations like this supposed to go again? “Um, do you guys wanna meet up later or…?”

“Let’s just go now,” Ruma answered, stepping into Rin’s vision wither bag propped against her shoulder. “We’re gonna need to be in uniform to hang in the class buildings anyway, so no point in wasting time.”

Mocha skipped forward, snagging Rin’s arm and almost spilling his yet unbuckled bag back across the floor. She smelled like peppermint shampoo, and Rin stuttered out incomplete sentences. “What Ruma-chan really means is she’ll fall asleep if we take a break,” Mocha teased. Ruma flipped her the bird. Mocha exhibited unusual strength dragging Rin towards the door. “We should get going to see what study spots are even left. No time to waste. Keep up, Rin-chan.”

“I-I can walk on my own,” Rin managed to protest, but Mocha didn’t let go. Ruma snickered, but amongst the sound Rin thought he heard someone’s tongue click. “Besides, if someone’s there, we can just go someplace else, right?” Unless people were as territorial of their study locations like gangs were of their turf. If it came to that, Rin figured he could win in a fight.

_Not that that’s something I wanna do anymore._ With the way Mocha was making him haul ass, Rin figured she could handle herself, despite her attitude. And as a former punk himself, Rin had no trouble identifying Ruma as one of the same. _Agh, what am I thinking? This is why I’m no good at studying._

Without letting go, Mocha retrieved her cram school key, then stopped before putting it in the transport door’s lock. “What’s the matter?” Ruma asked from half a meter back.

“Welllllll, this is my key,” Mocha said, (finally!) releasing Rin’s arm. He made sure to put a comfortable distance between them as Ruma muttered something offensive. “And so long as you use the same transport door, the magic keys take you back to the door you came from in the first place, right?” Did they? Rin had always walked home from cram school. Mephisto hadn’t said anything like that, had he? “So we have the teensy-weensy problem that I came in from our dorm. If we go through, Rin-chan’s gonna be in the girl’s dorm without signing the entry form…” Son of Satan or not, Rin swallowed. “So we can’t use mine. Where’d you last use your key from, Ruma-chan?”

The redhead looked to the ceiling in thought. “Last Friday we used my key to get here,” she said. “Came in through the dorm, too.” Her green eyes, darker than Whiskey’s, met Rin’s. “And you?”

“Oh, uh, I came in through one of the classrooms,” Rin said. He had taken a nap on the roof after regular school and had almost ended up late. At least it had paid off; he didn’t quite want anyone else to know he was roomed so far away from everyone else just yet. Rin reached for his pocket. “Mine then?”

“Nailed it,” Mocha said with a wink. She stepped back, waiting for Rin to open the door. When he did, a hallway of True Cross Academy stood on the other side. Mocha poked her head through. “Oh, I know where this is! Makes it easy. Okay, so the first place we’re looking for is…"


	10. Chapter Nine

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Nine

* * *

Ruma handled it when Whiskey ignored her and Mocha both when getting back to the dorm that night. Ruma handled it when Whiskey sulked for the next few days, studying by herself and blaring anime music loud enough to be heard from across the room _with her headphones still on._ Ruma even handled it when Rin and one of their other idiot classmates almost got attacked by Reapers in gym class and Whiskey didn’t so much as try to stop them, too busy counting stitches in the hem of her tracksuit’s sleeve. Hell, Ruma handled it well enough when Whiskey spent Saturday night staring at her laptop watching some show all the way until the next morning.

But when Monday hit and Whiskey had been an antisocial bitch for a whole week, Ruma still handled it. She just handled it in a different way.

“Nope,” Ruma said after cram school that evening, sitting down in Whiskey’s desk chair. The calendar had shifted to May, but the dorms were kept crisp with air conditioning. Whiskey glared down at her friend and tried to step around her. Ruma snatched the other girl’s arm. Mocha stopped changing out of her uniform and gave them a worried glance. “I said nope, Whiskey. You’re being a whiny brat, and this is stopping now.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” Whiskey snatched her hand back without even using her full strength, but Ruma stood up. Mocha was the undisputed shortest of them, but Ruma still had a good few centimeters on Whiskey. “Oh, trying to intimidate me again? I thought we’d gone past that stage.”

Not even a year earlier, Ruma would have thrown the punch without thinking. In that same time frame, Whiskey might have taken it, too scared to overpower her normal classmate in a tussle. But a lot had changed, from Ruma (trying, she admitted) to think things through, and Whiskey knowing just how to stop any incoming bullying.

Ruma still clenched her fist a few times, to release the pressure building inside of her. Mocha took a step closer, so she could mediate if necessary, but not enough to set Whiskey off. “I’m telling you you’re being a brat, because it’s the truth,” Ruma continued, shoulders set square. “And I’m going to get you to knock it off, not because I wanna force you, but because you’re my _friend_, and that’s what friends do, last I checked. Not blow people off just because they’re jealous.”

“It’s not—” Whiskey sucked in a breath and cast her eyes to the ground. Ruma knew Whiskey didn’t fear her anymore; it was an acknowledgement that she was being a stubborn little shit. Which Ruma knew because _she_ was a stubborn little shit. “It’s not…_just_ because I’m jealous.”

“Good, you can admit part of the problem. Now let’s go blow off some steam downtown and you can tell me the rest.” Ruma stepped towards the door, turning back when Whiskey didn’t follow. “This isn’t an option, ya hear me? I’ll drag you if I have to, but I’d rather not.”

‘Whiskey-chan,” Mocha said, grasping at the uniform skirt folded up in her hands, “go ahead and relax a bit, please? I forgive you, but this is…”

Whiskey dropped her bag onto her desk but didn’t sit down. “Yeah, I get it,” she relented. “Sorry, Mocha-chan.” Mocha gave a small smile, not even at half her usual capacity. “I’ll buy you some ice cream next time we go out, okay?”

“What the hell? I don’t get ice cream?”

Whiskey turned to Ruma, waving her wallet in the air. “No, ‘cause I’m sure whatever you were planning on making me doing will exceed that cost by a wide margin.”

Ruma smirked and tossed Mocha a farewell wave. “Well, I wasn’t sure what we were doing yet,” the redhead drawled, “but since you made the offer, I’ll be sure to make it extra expensive.”

* * *

Considering she had never wanted to come there in the first place, Ruma loved the way True Cross Academy Town was at night. It wasn’t just the look of the place, all sorts of neon lights and retro looking stores lining the shopping districts, but also the way street performers played and sales people called out advertising for their wares, all blending into a melody with the general hubbub of life. The aromas of every snack from dango to takoyaki wafted up towards the dim sky, ushering saliva into Ruma’s mouth.

_Even when it’s not a place to easily hide in, it’s still the best._

Ruma grinned a bit, and Whiskey shot her friend a deadpan look. “Do you even know where you’re taking me yet?” Whiskey grumbled. She hated aimless wandering, because it was so _unstructured_. The girl needed to realize that being normal didn’t mean being an automaton.

“Not a clue!” Ruma said, sending Whiskey back to her sulking. Both girls casted glances over the crowd, though for different reasons. Ruma took in the lay of the land out of instinct; Whiskey just looked unnerved. Even if she wasn’t talking much, it was an improvement over her dead silence the past week. Ruma tweaked Whiskey’s nose while she was distracted, earning a recoil before the glare struck. “You’re way too jumpy.”

Whiskey pushed Ruma’s hand away before it could make another grab at her face. “You’re invading my personal space,” she countered.

“Mocha-chan invades your personal space all the time.” Whiskey stuck out her tongue, but didn’t laugh. While the situation could have required patience and a careful buildup, Ruma was not the type for either of those things. She hadn’t quite picked out an exorcist meister yet, but being able to hit things was a must. Physical output would do them both good. Ruma changed course in the crowd, drawing them away from the bouquet of an early dinner and to a less used street.

Less used being a relative term. It may have looked like a wacky fantasy city, but True Cross Academy Town had quite a robust population beyond just its students. Hell, after getting the feel of the place and meeting the Headmaster, Ruma wouldn’t have minded staying a while herself. Even so, more people were focused on their mealtime then extra activity, so it made reaching their destination all the easier.

“Batting cages,” Whiskey deadpanned, forking over a twenty-thousand yen bill to the cashier anyway and accepting her change in turn. She may have been trying to act like she wanted to be by herself, but Ruma knew Whiskey wouldn’t leave. Self-satisfied or not, everyone needed social interaction in some form. “You know we have batting cages in the Cram School exercise areas, right?”

Ruma bounced on her heels as she weighed a bat across her palm. The weight distribution felt a bit heavy for her tastes, but would do well for someone with greater strength. “Yeah, but you’re pissed off at cram school,” she said, passing the bat off to Whiskey and testing out a few others. Finding an aluminum number that almost melded to her palm, Ruma took her pick of the all empty cages. Whiskey stepped into an adjacent one, eyes still tracing her friend’s movements. “So you and me are gonna let of our frustrations on these poor little baseballs, and you can scream and whine all you want. So long as you _talk_ to me.”

Whiskey had always been very reserved when it came to intentional displays of anger. Sure, her temper pulled her around five ways to Sunday, and her outbursts could even stop Ruma in her tracks if the volume was turned up loud enough. But Whiskey had always retreated herself when she _realized_ she was getting angry, which was just as much of a problem as letting it explode unchecked.

_Not that she’ll go for it right away, anyways,_ Ruma mused, and then flicked on the cage controls next to her. While she had a mean swing, most of the time it wasn’t aimed at such a precise target, so she kept the opening pace slow. The first ball fired, Ruma swung, but the bat nicked the ball, whiffing it off at an unimpressive angle. In the cage next to her, a loud crack echoed through the otherwise silent batting cages, the ball rattling the fencing at the back of the range. _Fucking precise little shit._

Ruma’s bat connected with the next ball—it didn’t _go_ in the direction she wanted it, but it still hit the fence with a fresh rattle. Whiskey flubbed her next swing, which improved Ruma’s mood. While she had been planning on helping out her friend, her own frustrations thrummed through her chest to her fingertips, swinging the bat with force that could break an arm.

_Heh, I’d like to see a demon get a load of this!_

“What’s got you so worked up?” Whiskey said between breaths. She had turned up the speed setting just a little bit, and was coming up half-and-half on her accuracy. None her swings caused another home run. “Look, if I pissed you off that bad, you could’ve said something sooner.”

Ruma laughed mid swing—another decent straight shot. No good in a game, but no one said she was practicing for baseball. “You really haven’t been paying attention to anyone at all, have you?”

She couldn’t look away to check Whiskey’s face, but three balls were hit before the half-demon’s answer: _crack, crack, crack, _“I guess I haven’t.”

“Figures,” Ruma scoffed, taking a swing. The ball changed course, but ended up grazing her knuckles. Not the worst she’d ever had. “You know? Rin and Suguro Ryuji getting into their fight? They’ve been arguing ever since. Mocha-chan thinks it’s great fun, but it makes me wanna kick both their asses.”

Whiskey spluttered out laugher, cut off by a curse as the next ball crashed into the cage behind her. Ruma took the cue to make sure her next hit connected, and got a great aerial arc for her efforts. “Well, I did _kinda_ notice,” Whiskey said in an effort to salvage her observational skills, “but I wasn’t gonna get into it. Rin-kun can argue with whoever he wants…”

The next ball whizzed past her, too, but the bat stayed still, the top of it resting on the ground. Ruma did herself a favor and switched off her own pitching machine for a minute, crossing her arms to glare at her friend. “But he can’t even get an explanation out of you for why you’re ignoring him?” Whiskey grit her teeth, taking a sloppy swing at the next ball and missing. Each twitch of muscle carried exasperation. “You’ve been his friend for a week, then ditched him for the same amount of time right after. How do you think he feels?”

“I know!” Whiskey tossed her own bat clanging to the ground. The next baseball whizzed past, and she snarled at it. “I got pissed off ‘cause he found a new friend, then Yukio-kun was a major dick, tossing out insults about Vati, and I just—aagh!” Coal tar gathered around Whiskey as she shouted to the empty batting range, but she didn’t absorb them like normal. Instead, she took ragged breaths and stared at the ground. “I was tired with emptying my Submission, but that doesn’t make it okay, I know. Jesus.”

Whiskey put a hand to her forehead and started muttering. Ruma watched a moment, making sure the big explosion had passed, then turned her pitching machine back on, increasing the frequency. Two balls fired from Whiskey’s without interference.

“Jerk-sensei started talking shit about your dad?” Ruma asked, getting back into batting. There was something soothing about the force you could put into striking a baseball, from the routine movements. If Ruma hadn’t been so busy with cram school, she could’ve had a decent run in the baseball club. Whiskey said something too quiet to hear through the impact of aluminum and ball, but Ruma could guess the answer. “Want me to be a trouble maker for out next Demon Pharmaceuticals lesson? You know what I’m capable of.”

Whiskey was her friend, and friends stuck up for each other, even when one of them had been a stupid bitch. That’s what being friends was _about_. And even beyond that, Ruma was fond of Mephisto, even though Whiskey grimaced whenever the topic got brought up. Letting insults to the Headmaster’s character wouldn’t slide with Ruma, even if the perpetrator was a teacher.

“Thank you, but no,” Whiskey said, tapping her own bat against her open palm. It would’ve been intimidating if it weren’t for the sad look on her face. “I said some dumb stuff, too, so I’ll sort it out. Later. I’m more worried about Rin-kun…”

Whiskey understood what she had done, so there was no need for Ruma to harp on it. Whiskey waited until the latest pitch came from her machine, then got back into position after the ball cleared. Ruma was stuck in a string of foul balls, white orbs glowing in the old-school incandescent lights. “You should hang out with him,” she suggested. “I mean, sure, apologize first, but hang out with him. Show him you _do _want to be his friend, and you’re not just saying it. Maybe even talk to Moriyama, too. She’s a bit ditzy, but not a bad person.”

“Right.” Whiskey sucked in a breath, making another dead-on hit. The ball didn’t reach as high as her first one, but it still crashed into the back of the cage with great force. “I’ll at least start with Rin-kun tomorrow. We’ll see what needs to happen from there.”

Ruma nailed her next swing, bringing her string of foul balls to an end. She pumped her fist before getting ready for the next one. “You gonna try to make up with Jerk-sensei, too?” She spared a quick glance to Whiskey at the question. The half-demon’s face was set.

“I’m not ready for that yet,” she admitted. Ruma shrugged. No sense in pushing limits. Mocha might be disappointed, but she could understand the best out of all of them. The important point was that the main matter of Rin was settled; the other Okumura twin could wait forever for all Ruma was concerned. It was bad enough having Whiskey as a near OCD friend—another straight and narrow guy would screw up the group dynamic beyond belief.

“Was it bad?” Ruma ventured, then realizing her wording was vague. Whiskey didn’t seem to want to talk about that conversation yet, so that could wait, too. “The thing with your powers, I mean.”

Whiskey hit her next few balls, taking the time to think over her words. “I overdid it a bit,” she admitted. _On purpose_, Ruma understood. The redhead pursed her lips. “It kinda screwed me up a bit, but they’re all gone, so…” Whiskey took another hard swing that looked like it would have dislocated a less sturdy girl’s shoulders. “I still feel uneasy, though. I don’t know why. It’s not fair.”

Ruma thought about it. There hadn’t been any distress lying in wait under the streets. True Cross Academy Town had always carried the influence of demons, and the people who lived there had long adjusted, even if they couldn’t see. But Ruma felt it, too, the slight _density _in the air that didn’t come from impending humidity.

“Yeah, I feel it, too.” Even controlled and even swings couldn’t contain her unease. In Ruma’s experience, that meant something big was coming. “I can’t tell what it is, though. Is it demonic?”

Whiskey’s eyes shut for a minute. Ruma didn’t have even a quarter of the half-demon’s natural awareness of the supernatural, but she could still feel Whiskey’s aura stretch out and pass through her. Unlike other powerful demons’ searching, Ruma felt at ease in Whiskey’s presence. Nothing like the jittering fear that would come from an enemy. “Yes, but it’s hidden well.” Ruma kicked the ground. Any opponent that could hide their presence was guaranteed trouble. “It’s also not here anymore. Like whatever it was came and soaked the place in its energy before slipping off.”

_Marking its territory, then,_ Ruma thought, but didn’t say. Whiskey had enough to worry about. _No, this place is the Headmaster’s territory, and he’s _strong._ No one would be stupid enough to call this place theirs with him here. So it’s a mark to attack? But, again, who would be strong or powerful enough to even think of something like that?_

In Ruma’s limited two-month experience with a temptaint, she had only encountered one demon that had ever gone so far to try such a thing. And Whiskey had fought him off—_but she didn’t kill him. _Ruma understood grudge matches better than most professional fighters. Coming back to challenge Whiskey in revenge wouldn’t be so out of place. _Please, don’t let it be that. For Whiskey, for Mocha-chan._

Ruma swallowed, knowing that not being able to admit fear meant you couldn’t conquer it. _For me, too, please._

“Sorry,” Whiskey said, breaking Ruma from her thoughts. Whiskey kept up her swings, but still casted tea green colored concern to the cage beside her. “This was supposed to make me feel better, not freak you out.” She hit an unimpressive ground ball. “You were right, I just needed to talk it out. Thanks for putting up with my stubborn ass.”

Ruma scooped up one of the balls that had rolled back near her sneaker and pitched it towards Whiskey; it hit the fence between. “Damn straight I was right,” Ruma crowed. She reveled in Whiskey’s startled expression. “Look, I _know_ you’ve never had many friends, so you get territorial over them.” The blush confirmed that. “But I’ll bet Rin’s just as happy to have you as he is to have Shiemi around, because _he’s_ never had many friends. So just enjoy the time you can get with him and stop being such a nitwit.”

Whiskey thought for a moment, then took a mock swing that had to be visualizing knocking off Ruma’s head. The redhead grinned and returned the favor, until they both let loose their laughter into the night.


	11. Chapter Ten

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Ten

* * *

It only took bringing back a pint of gourmet ice cream for Mocha to forgive her, and Whiskey was grateful for that, if not for the way her roommate proceeded to bounce off the walls in the process. Whiskey still felt guilty, even though she knew she had done what she could to make up for her shitty attitude. And while she knew that poor life decisions and upsetting your friends _was_ a part of a normal life, that didn’t mean she liked it one bit.

_But that’s neither here nor there._

As the bell rang to signal the start of lunch, Whiskey chewed the inside of her lip. She already knew that she needed to apologize to Rin next, that he more than deserved it, but that didn’t stop the sheer nerves from getting to her. What if he didn’t want anything to do with her after she’d just blown him off for such a petty reason? She’d more than deserve it.

Even so, she had to try. She wanted to.

“Faust-san, are you alright?” a voice asked next to her. Shirou Ryouichi, Whiskey’s seatmate in her normal classes, looked at her with a trace of worry in his brown eyes. He’d pushed his bangs of the same color out of his face with a headband, which just made the concern on his face all the easier to pick up on. They shared an interest in many of the same manga titles, so Whiskey had chatted with him once or twice. “You’re spacing out a little.”

Whiskey shook her head, the soft thump of her braid against her shoulders bringing her back to reality. She was about to open her mouth to say that she was fine when Mocha all but threw herself onto Whiskey’s desk, sending the legs scraping against the floor. “Eh, you’re looking all grumpy, Wh—Margeret-chan.” She caught herself just in time, and Whiskey breathed out a silent sigh. “Don’t tell me you’re upset because your favorite character died again.”

“That has nothing to do with it!” Whiskey said, pushing Mocha away by the face. To the side, Ryouichi nodded, understanding the pain of fictional loss far better than Mocha ever could. “I’m just trying to psyche myself up to take care of something important.”

The next impact with her desk was Ruma kicking it in the side. Whiskey gritted her teeth and worked on straightening it back out. At least she’d cleaned off the top beforehand, though the insides would need organization later. “You’re not gonna put it off, are ya?” Ruma asked, a thin eyebrow raised. “If you do, you’ll just make it worse.”

“I know, I know, I’m gonna do it.” Whiskey pushed herself up in her seat and smiled at Ryouichi. “Thanks for checking on me. Didn’t you say you wanted to try and get that special bread from the shop today? If you hang around here, you’re gonna miss it.”

Ryouichi blinked once, then bolted up in his seat. “Crap, you’re right! Thanks, Faust-san!” And like that, he was off, almost tripping as he dodged around their classmates dispersing throughout the room and discussing lunch plans.

Pushing her chair back into place, Whiskey tried to steel the resolve inside of her. Considering she could fight demons and come out unscathed, working up the nerve to apologize was somehow much harder. She shoved her hands in her pockets, her tail nervously twitching from its position wrapped around her stomach. “Guess I should get going, too.”

Mocha put on her most encouraging grin, giving Whiskey a pat on the back in reassurance. “You can do it. Rin-chan’s missed you, too, so I’m sure he’ll forgive you.”

“Want us to wait for you to grab lunch?” Ruma asked.

Whiskey shook her head. “Nah, you guys go on without me.” All things considered, she wouldn’t be surprised if she spent the whole of lunch groveling and didn’t get anywhere. “I’ll snag a snack or something when we’re done.”

Ruma tipped her hand in a two fingered salute. “Roger that. Let’s roll, Mocha-chan.”

“You got it, Ane-san!”

“You’re not gonna let that one go, are ya?”

Whiskey chuckled to herself as her friends headed towards the door, too, leaving her in the moderate chatter of her classmates. She debated letting her aura out to hunt for Rin first, but thought against it. There weren’t too many cram school kids in their year, but she didn’t want to become the accidental cause of someone starting to become attuned to the presence of demons. Double-checking that she had her wallet on her, Whiskey took to the halls herself.

Despite the large size of True Cross Academy, it never ceased to amaze her how the student body could make even the extravagant halls seem packed. Students of every kind were milling about, chatting about their classes or heading towards the cafeteria. Many more were carrying packed lunches to other classrooms, meeting up with their friends. As the logical thing would to do would be drop by Rin’s classroom and see if he was still there, Whiskey went to step forward.

Then stopped.

While she and Rin had hung out, that was usually after Cram School. They hadn’t talked much about ordinary classes save for some assistance with homework. As the headmaster’s daughter, Whiskey could’ve easily gone ahead and just asked her father for the information, but she didn’t want to if she didn’t have to. The next alternative was Yukio (whose class she _did_ know)—except Whiskey didn’t want anything to do with him after what he’d said about her father. Playing nice during his Demon Pharmaceuticals lectures was taxing enough as it was.

_As if it’s not going to be hard enough to just talk to Rin and apologize._

Whiskey grimaced and resigned herself to searching throughout the campus.

* * *

All things considered, it shouldn’t have been too surprising to find him eating lunch outside.

The weather wasn’t ideal for it, but the beginning of May had done plenty to start warming up the temperature. Several other students stood scattered across True Cross Academy’s vast courtyard, sitting underneath trees, near flowerbeds, or even just on the verdant green grass. Rin was one of those who had chosen a tree for his perch, and his chopsticks moved in a blur between his mouth and bento. If they weren’t in public, Whiskey could just see his tail swishing about in excitement.

She wasn’t looking forward to when she walked over, and his expression fell. The only consolation in damn situation was that his brother seemed to be nowhere in sight.

_If you say it like that, you’re gonna jinx it. Get a move on._

Nails biting into her palms, Whiskey took quick strides in hope that her nervousness wouldn’t be able to catch up with her. She weaved around a few other students, their easy chatter and laughter a contrasting backdrop to her own emotions. Rin was so immersed in his lunch that he didn’t seem to notice Whiskey until she was right in front of him.

Whiskey opened her mouth, but no words came out. Rin’s vibrant blue eyes stared back at her, widened in surprise. The two-half demons had a staring contest for several moments while Whiskey tried to put on a not awkward smile and forced her vocal cords into working order.

“H-hey.”

Rin gathered himself enough to swallow. “H-hey.”

It was just one word, but Whiskey’s keen ears had no trouble picking up on the hesitation and undercurrents of hurt in his voice. The look on his face hurt even worse. Really, if he didn’t forgive her, Whiskey wouldn’t be surprised. But she needed to try and apologize anyway, so she sucked up her courage and bowed as far at the waist she could without losing her balance.

“I’m sorry for being a jerk!” She squeezed her eyes shut, the shade of the tree falling on her back. “I said all that stuff about being your friend and sticking together because we’re alike, but I didn’t keep my word. I got upset and took it out on you. If nothing else, I should have let you know that I just wanted some space. I’m so sorry for leaving you out of the loop. You didn’t deserve that!” _Not after I can see the way you were all alone, just like I was._

The courtyard was big enough that no one was in immediate earshot, but a few whispers about her sudden outburst still made it to Whiskey’s ears. She couldn’t bother to worry about it. If her father hadn’t drilled it into her to have at least some pride as the daughter of one of the princes of Gehenna, she would’ve gone straight for the dogeza. Rin’s pulse was somewhat elevated, a sign of his apprehension.

Chancing it, Whiskey opened her eyes and peeked through her bangs as best she could without breaking her position. Outlined by the faint wisps of dark blue, Rin’s mouth hung open, the chopsticks useless in his limp hand. If he would just say something, _anything_, Whiskey would feel a whole lot better.

_Can you not think something selfish for like two seconds?_

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Rin said, at last coming to his senses and waving his hands through the air. He almost seemed panicked. “It’s okay, Whiskey, really. Izona and Mocha-chan told me you had something upsetting happen, so not to take it personally. I mean, yeah, I’m glad you apologized, but you don’t gotta go this far. I wasn’t that upset—”

“You don’t need to lie to make me feel better!” Rin jumped at her second outburst, and Whiskey’s face burned hot as she straightened herself out. The pain he’d felt; Whiskey knew well enough what it was like to have someone you thought cared prove otherwise. Knew what it felt like when you were the abandoned one. “I’ve been alone, too. I know what it’s like when you lose friends. I just didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way I was just so frustrated—”

She stopped when Rin’s expression evened back out. She was ready for him to yell at her, like he’d argued with Suguro over the Reapers (Ruma thought Whiskey hadn’t been paying attention, but she _had_, dammit). Instead, his expression looked gentle. “I know,” he said, and Whiskey realized he understood what it was like to let the pain get the better of you, too. “I’ve done some stupid crap, too. So, really, don’t worry about it.”

“But I—”

“If you wanna make it up to me so bad, help me out with my homework again, would ya? Izona and Mocha-chan are okay, but, well…”

Rin grimaced, and Whiskey snorted without meaning to. “Okay. If you’re sure about that.”

“Yeah!” As she watched Rin’s face blossom into a smile, a wave of warmth reached her that had nothing to do with embarrassment or Rin’s inherent nature as kin of fire. It was just who he was, something so warm and inviting and _forgiving_ that so many people would have never guessed that he was a demon. His earnestness was just that bright.

_He’s too good for this world,_ Whiskey decided, and then she had to conceal her grimace.

Because she didn’t deserve that forgiveness.

“Since you’re here, you should eat lunch, man.” Rin pointed to the grass before going back to sorting through the now somewhat mixed contents of his bento. Whiskey’s heightened sense of smell caught onto the aroma, sending her stomach into a grumble that reminded her that she hadn’t quite eaten enough for breakfast. Emptying out her Submission the week before meant that she didn’t have any reserves of energy to rely on, either. Rin seemed to notice that Whiskey’s hands were empty. “You didn’t bring anything?”

“I thought finding you and apologizing was more important.” Rin blinked, as if he hadn’t expected the words. Whiskey pushed past the fresh wave of guilt, deciding that it was better to make it up to Rin rather than beat herself up for it. “I usually pick something up from the cafeteria. Ah, I know Vati doesn’t really give you a big allowance, but if you want I can grab you something, too?”

Rin jumped to his feet, just remembering to close his bento before spilling its contents over the ground. “For real?” And just like that, the image of a wagging tail was back in full force. He was just too damn adorable. “Yukio treated me once, but it’s so expensive there. I’d love some, though. I-if you don’t mind, that is.”

Whiskey brushed off his concerns with a wave of her hand. “Like I said, Vati spoils me. It’d be stupid for me to not spread the wealth, especially when you deserve it.” Feeling a smile at last ease back onto her face, Whiskey nodded into the direction of the cafeteria. “Let’s get going before we run out of time to eat.”

“Yeah!”

* * *

Feeling even lighter than she had after venting to Ruma, Whiskey ate her meal while Rin almost inhaled his. With how hungry she felt, the only thing stopping Whiskey from doing the same were the years of manners lessons from her father. Still, she admired Rin’s charm.

They’d managed to find an open place in the crowded cafeteria to fit them around the center of the room. The concentrated chatter of True Cross Academy students created its own sort of background news that wasn’t all too far off from the familiar crowd sound effects in a video game. Now they just needed some charming BGM, and the scene would be perfect.

Twirling a fresh bite of pasta around her fork, Whiskey’s eyes glanced over to Rin’s bento sitting off to the side. “So did you make your first lunch yourself?” she asked. The alternative was that Yukio had done the cooking, but she didn’t want to have saying his name ruin her appetite in the process.

Rin paused long enough in his quest to decimate his meal to nod, sending his dark hair fluttering in the breeze. “Yeah! Your old man’s too stingy to give me any real allowance, so Yukio and I pulled our money together and decided to just make stuff in the dorm kitchen! Though even with that, it’s still gonna be a stretch.”

Whiskey grimaced around her fork. _Vati, why are you so impossible?_ Rin only looked somewhat annoyed, but it was still unfair. Whiskey ended up chewing the inside of her lip, trying to think of something worth saying. There was always…but she didn’t want to sound stuck up…

_Fuck it._

“How about I share some of my allowance with you?” Rin’s mouth opened in protest, but Whiskey held up her hand to cut him off. “No, listen, I have way too much money than anyone my age should deal with. I do spend a decent chunk of it—” her father indulged her anime merch collection, which was only a fraction of his “—but I have a bunch just sitting around in savings. You’re not inconveniencing me or anything.”

“Yeah, but—” Rin’s brow furrowed, trying to scramble up a good counterargument. He settled for throwing his hands in the air. “It’s, like, not that I don’t appreciate it, but you’re my friend, and I’d feel like I’m taking advantage of you or something.”

“But you’re not.”

“It doesn’t sit right with me.”

“You’re being unnecessarily stubborn, Rin-kun.”

“You’re being too ridiculous!”

Whiskey sighed, pushing down her scowl. Even if it wasn’t in anger, she didn’t want Rin to think she was upset at him. Not again. “Fine,” she said, and Rin seemed to let out his own exhale in relief. “I won’t just give you money. You can make me lunch, too. Then it’s fair.”

“What?” Rin straight up gawked at her, losing all sense of seriousness he’d been trying to maintain. He shook his head with the speed of a Reaper demon locked on its prey. “No, no, no. I mean, I’m an okay cook, but it’s nothing special.” He pointed his fork at his tray, or at least what lunch was left on it. “I can’t cook anything like this! I bet it won’t even taste good after all the fancy food you’ve had.”

He was underestimating Vati’s love for instant ramen. Whiskey had grown up a decent portion of her life on the stuff. She huffed. “I’m sure it’s not too bad.” Her eyes landed on Rin’s bento. He noticed her gaze, but Whiskey was faster. She snatched it up and started undoing the top, ignoring Rin’s protest. Her spoon was still clean, and she scooped up the largest bite of rice and what seemed to be the traces of some stir fry she could, popping the whole thing in her mouth.

And froze.

Rin groaned. “See, I told you it’s nothing like what you’re used to.” He tried to reach across the table without knocking over their trays. Catching his movement from the corner of her eye, Whiskey slipped out of his reach and took another bite, then another. “H-hey, you don’t gotta force it—”

“Are you out of your mind?” Whiskey slammed the now empty bento down on the table, her spoon rattling in the box. When was the last time she’d had anything like home cooking? Was it always supposed to taste so damn good? “That was fucking delicious. If you don’t cook for me, I’m gonna riot. Come on, Rin-kun, please.” In a completely different type of prostration than before, Whiskey clasped her hands together and bowed her head.

“Okay, okay, sheesh.” Whiskey sat up straight, smiling. Rin scratched the back of his head, a faint shade of pink dusting his cheeks as he looked away in embarrassment. “You’re not messing with me, right? You think it’s that good?”

Whiskey nodded. “If you ever have bad luck becoming an exorcist, I will personally hire you as my chef.”

“Well, okay. So long as you don’t give me too much, okay? I really don’t wanna cause a problem.”

“Yes!” Whiskey pumped her fist, then held out her hand again. “Shake on it, so it’s legit.”

Rin snorted but held out his hand anyway. “Yeah, alright,” he said, the callouses of his hand pressing against Whiskey’s own. “But you don’t gotta call me ‘-kun’ like that. Just Rin is fine.”

If it were possible, Whiskey felt her grin stretch out even further.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Eleven

* * *

“Okay, you two. Hit me with your questions about Meisters. I know you have them.”

Whiskey dropped her chair to the side of Ruma and Mocha’s table at the cram school and crossed her arms. Rin had gotten into a conversation with the trio of Suguro, Shima, and Konekomaru, and, while there was a small spike of jealousy stirring in her heart, she knew it would do him some good to hang out with other people. If nothing else, she could learn from her mistakes.

Mocha’s hand shot up in the air, paying no mind to how she almost smacked Ruma in the head in the process. “Question for Whiskey-chan-sensei! What Meister are you gonna be?”

“Me? Well, I decided to be a Doctor when Cram School came into the picture.” There wasn’t much need to focus on anything else. Whiskey leaned back in her chair and stared at the curved ceiling far above them. “I’d rather use my abilities to protect people. And since I’m a half, I can handle a lot of demon ailments better than most people.” If for no other reason than most demons could sense her bloodline as a direct descendant of the King of Time and tended to decide they did _not_ want to mess with that.

Ruma had kicked her leg up onto the table next to her scattered notes. “You’re still such a goody two shoes,” she said, spinning a pencil between her fingers. “Being a backline member is boring. I’m gonna get out there and start knocking heads together!” She paused, tilting her head. “Which of these Meister things means I can use a bat?”

Whiskey just managed to repress her snicker at the image of Ruma swinging around a bat after demons, her red hair flying behind her; Mocha had no such reservations about breaking down into a laughing fit hunched over the table. “I mean, you could technically try to pass that off as a Knight? But I thought you’d be more about legally getting your hands on a sword instead.”

Ruma slammed her fist into the table with a predatory grin. “Yes, that! Let’s do that one.”

“Heheh, if you ask me, Knight’s almost too noble for you, Ruma-cha—gah, I take it back, I take it back! I worked hard on my hair this morning!” Ruma stopped short of giving Mocha a noogie, and the smaller girl pouted as she worked on smoothing down her rumbled bangs. “Well, you two have more than enough manpower to handle all that crazy hand to hand stuff. I think I’d rather do long range stuff.”

Whiskey nodded. “Well, you could be a Dragoon that uses guns.” _Like Yukio-kun._ She pushed the thought off before it left an awful taste in her mouth. “Arias are another option. They use chants and scriptures to fight. You have to do a lot of memorization work, but when you combo that with being a Dragoon, you can get some impressive battle stats.” If they were to form an RPG party, Whiskey would’ve liked their chances.

“Oh, I like that. Sounds hard but you can help me study, right, Whiskey-chan?” When Mocha put on that smile of hers, there was no way for Whiskey to say no. She’d learned that lesson a long time ago.

“Hey, hold up,” Ruma said. She held up her hand, four fingers spread open. “I thought there was a fifth Meister, right? What’s the last one?” She puffed out her chest, looking smug for remembering such a piece of information. And while Whiskey was glad Ruma was putting in the effort to pay attention, she still wished her friend hadn’t asked.

“The fifth Meister,” Whiskey said, and nothing she thought of could ever take away the bitterness that coated her tongue and the pang in her chest, “is Tamer.”

* * *

The first month of cram school lessons hadn’t done anything that could improve Whiskey’s impression of their Magical Circles and Seals class. The work itself wasn’t bad, seeing as her father’s lessons on demon kind had involved a rather set of intensive lessons on such symbols; Whiskey was sure she had a level of knowledge comparable to even higher-ranked Exorcists.

Instead, it was a smell. True, unlike the classroom they had used for the first day’s temptaint ritual, most of the other parts of the Cram School building were clean and tidy. But Magical Circles and Seals had a faint scent underneath it all, traces of kin of rot that wouldn’t go away, even when Whiskey tried to ignore it. It always left her feeling uneasy.

The intricate diagram drawn on the floor when they walked in the door didn’t help.

From the group filing in behind them, Shima whistled at the sight of it. Their professor, Neuhaus, stood at the circle’s edge, the usual teacher’s table pressed against the far wall. Wrinkling her nose, Whiskey resigned herself to the group forming around the shape at Neuhaus’s beckoning. Ruma cast her a questioning look, but Whiskey shook her head. It wasn’t something she could help anyway.

She’d chosen her path.

“So far we’ve just been discussing the uses of seals from a defensive standpoint,” Neuhaus said once everyone was present and accounted for. Across the circle, Rin seemed to be peering at the diagram with a curious sort of expression, and Mocha did the same at Whiskey’s side. “However, as your Exwire study camp and certification exam are coming up, we’re going to shift the focus to Tamers, one of your potential Meisters. This class of exorcists fights by summoning contracted demons to defend them.”

It was a familiar lecture for Whiskey, but the alternative was deciphering just what type of demon would come from the diagram on the ground, so she paid attention. Neuhaus laid out the general rules for tamers and their summoning circles, until the time came to put on a demonstration. With perfect execution, Neuhaus unwrapped the bandage on his hand, spilling fresh blood from the open wound onto the floor.

“_Son of Typhon and Echidna, hear my call. Come forth!_”

It was a deceptively simple invocation, but it still yielded immediate results. In a gust of wind and magic, the circle gave way to Gehenna for but a moment, the called upon demon rising from the very ground. With it, the harsh sulfur scent of kin of rot intensified, and it was all Whiskey could do not to look like she wanted to vomit. Judging by the way Shima covered his nose and the others tried to chase away the fumes, she wasn’t the only one. Even Ruma had scrunched up her face in a grimace.

The naeberius let out a faint growl, but it was harmless while under it’s summoner’s control. That didn’t make its off-tone skin and bloody sutures any less off putting. All it did was stand in the middle of the circle, awaiting a command. Catching sight of Mocha’s clenched fists at her sides, Whiskey gave her friend a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

“Few are those who can summon a demon to be their familiar,” Neuhaus continued. “To do this, you must have a strong spirit, as well as inborn ability! Although, there are those who have different methodologies thanks to their bloodlines.” Before she could even think of a counterargument, Neuhaus’s one good eye locked onto Whiskey. “Pheles-san, if you please. A demonstration would help your classmates before their own attempts.”

In a moment, everyone became distracted from the naeberius in the middle of them all. The entire classroom’s attention shifted onto Whiskey, and a thousand questions flew through her brain at once. She hadn’t intended to show off Submission, but it wasn’t something she had planned to hide, either.

_Doesn’t mean I wanted everyone to know like this._ Grimacing, she was about to give a strongly worded opinion on just what she _wouldn’t_ be doing, until she heard a voice in her head, not unlike her father’s, reminding her that it wouldn’t do to pitch a fit in class, especially since she was already on rocky ground with Yukio.

Against he better judgement, she stepped forward, dipping into her Submission.

Unlike her impromptu trip to Africa, Whiskey didn’t have a practical menagerie of kin of earth waiting inside of her. In fact, she hardly had anything at all. But there were still traces and fragments, minor demons that hadn’t gotten the memo the last time, as well as a few coal tars that she’d absorbed out of habit. Deciding that the small demons were the least auspicious thing she could dump into the middle of the classroom, Whiskey nodded to herself, held up her clenched fist, and opened it.

Purple wisps of energy snaked around her fingers, a precursor to the demons. At first, there was a black dot on her palm, then it expanded into the full orb of a coal tar, it’s angled tail bobbing behind it. One by one, more of them emerged, looking all the world like a stream of black bubbles populating the air around her. Surveying her classmates, she dreaded their reactions, but it seemed that they were too in awe by the display to even think about the implications of her ability.

“As you can see, Pheles-san here has a bit of an innate ability that differs from the usual tamer, but serves the role nonetheless. We’ll be testing to see if you have the traditional ability,” Neuhaus said, breaking the stunned atmosphere in the air. “Earlier, I handed out papers with magic circles on them. Drip your blood on it and chant whatever comes to mind. Pheles-san, if you don’t mind dispersing these.”

Whiskey nodded, mumbling the submission command under her breath as she collected the coal tars into her palms. They disappeared in the same purple light they’d arrived in, but everyone was too busy pricking their fingers to notice—everyone except for Rin, who had a hundred questions dancing behind his eyes. At least none of them were accusatory, and Whiskey waved Rin back to his circle with a smile she wasn’t really feeling. She didn’t expect Rin to have much luck with the circle, but it would do better for his cover if he played along with the class.

“_Inari, I humbly beseech thee to grant my request!_”

A fresh gust of air entered the room, clearing out the sulfur scent of naeberius with the cleansing presence of kin of Spirits. Twin white foxes appeared around Kamiki Izumo, her violet pigtails fluttering as her new familiars flanked her. Neuhaus passed on a compliment, and Whiskey had to agree; those foxes seemed to be rather high ranking if her senses weren’t wrong. Since it seemed that Kamiki had a lineage of shrine maidens backing it her up, though, it wasn’t too much of a surprise.

“Hm, no luck,” Mocha said as the trio of boys Rin had been talking with earlier expressed the same sentiment. The one kid in the hoodie and the boy with the puppet on his hand looked also came up empty, but Whiskey didn’t trust that effort in the slightest. She could _smell_ the demon on him, even if it was well enough to suppress its presence.

“Bummer, Mocha-chan,” Ruma said, but Mocha just shrugged it off. She’d fare better as her original plan of Aria and Dragoon, anyways. Grinning, Ruma clutched her blood smeared paper in hand. “Alright, let’s give this a shot. _I call upon the guardians of the river and harvest to bring me aid!_”

Whiskey blinked. Though on the surface, it seemed like nothing had happened, the shift in her demon’s senses changed in an instant. Even with everything they’d gone through, Whiskey had never expected Ruma to have the natural aptitude to be a tamer. And then the energy gave way to a solid form, hooves clicking against the tile floor as a regal antelope appeared before Ruma, easily standing taller than even Neuhaus, even without its horns. Whiskey didn’t recognize it right away, but the familiar taste of kin of earth touched her tongue.

She decided not to tell Ruma or Mocha about that bit.

“Satis,” said Neuhaus, and the antelope dipped its head in acknowledgement. “You’ve gathered yourself a rather powerful ally, Izona-san. Do make sure that you can handle it properly before you charge into battle.” Still grinning, Ruma puffed out her chest and held out her hand to the antelope’s nose. It sniffed at her once, then allowed for Ruma to pet its snout. “And it seems Moriyama-san has summoned a baby greenman. Excellent work, the three of you.”

On the other side of the circle, Moriyama smiled as her new familiar hopped up to her shoulder. Mocha bit her lip, and Whiskey gave her a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder. “It’s a familiar, remember?” Whiskey said, keeping her voice low. “It’s small, so it won’t be able to do much. And if all else fails, I’ll let my Submission take care of it.”

Mocha shook her head. “You don’t have to go that far, Whiskey-chan.” Her voice sounded much quieter than usual, but Whiskey couldn’t blame her. “This is what I’m going to do to strengthen myself. I’ll manage.”

“Right?” Ruma said, gesturing Mocha over to pet at the antelope’s muzzle. Once it had sniffed at Mocha’s hands once, it dipped its head down to let Mocha reach it. “We’re gonna take care of this no issue. But we might have other problems, y’know?” Ruma shot a look to Kamiki, who’d just finished dolling out a sarcastic response to Moriyama. Even worse, the girl didn’t seem to realize it, thanking Kamiki for the perceived compliment. “Feh, I know I’m not one to talk, but I’m sure glad you guys knocked some sense into me.”

Neuhaus cleared his throat, pulling the attention of the classroom back to him. “Looks like we’ve got quite a few possible Tamers this year. As mentioned, Tamers use demons to fight. They are rare among exorcists,” he said, moving back into lecture mode. Both Ruma and Mocha continued to enjoy the new familiar’s presence, but they did at least pay attention. “Demons refuse to obey anyone weaker than they are. They will attack anyone who lacks confidence. A familiar will disappear if the magic circle is broken, so if you ever feel you’re in danger, rip the circle. Now, to continue our lesson…”

Whiskey fell into the pattern as they rest of class resumed, but there was still an uneasy feeling in the back of her mind as the lectures went on.

* * *

Once she was out of the range of the Magical Circles and Seals class, the mental exhaustion caught up with Whiskey. Though no one else in the class had spoken up about her strange summoning technique, she supposed it was because most of them didn’t know better. Once they got farther into their lessons—Kamiki and Moriyama in particular—how might that reaction change?

“Yo, Whiskey, wait up!” Almost out the door with her roommates, Whiskey turned around at Rin’s voice. His bag wasn’t all the way fastened in his hand, and his eyes jumped between her and the other girls as he tried to compile his thoughts. “Would you mind if we hang out for a bit?”

Though they’d just chatted at lunch earlier, Whiskey smiled. Life was easier whenever she wasn’t being so stubborn about everything. “Sure, did you wanna come with us to dinner?” She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder in Mocha and Ruma’s general direction. “We were gonna pick up something from the cafeteria, but I don’t mind changing plans.”

“Well, I was wondering if we could maybe talk in private?” Whiskey thought she heard Mocha make an exaggerated “oooh” in the background. Whiskey rolled her eyes, even as Rin didn’t seem to catch wind of what was happening. “It’s just, uh, about that stuff we talked about before, and I’d feel a lot better if it was just us.”

“Yeah, gotcha.” If it was about half-demon stuff, then Whiskey couldn’t really argue. She spun around, waving her roommates on. “We’re gonna take care of something important, kay? Make sure you study after dinner.”

Ruma stuck out her tongue. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to tell us twice.” _If I didn’t need to say it once, then we’d all be much happier,_ Whiskey thought, but didn’t say anything. Mocha latched onto Ruma’s arm, totting the other girl down the hallway. “We’ll see ya later, Whiskey!”

Waving them off, Whiskey tightened her grip on her bag. “Alright, I bet you’d wanna talk about it at your place then? Ah, but we should still eat dinner…”

“I can cook,” Rin said, and Whiskey nodded within seconds. She’d gotten the leftovers before, but a fresh cooked meal? She could only imagine. “We’ll probably need to pick up some groceries, though. I don’t think I have enough to make extra with what we have so far.”

“Not a problem! I promised, so I can foot the bill.”

With that matter settled, Whiskey let Rin use his magic key, returning them to the abandoned boy’s dorm. While she would’ve liked to get changed before dinner, there wasn’t any sense in complaining about it. At least Yukio hadn’t seen fit to return to the brother’s shared room already, but Whiskey didn’t know if she’d be so lucky when it came to the dinner table. Whiskey excused herself to the restroom while Rin changed, and like that they were off.

They were in the last sections of daylight, a pale orange starting to creep up over the skies. Most students were at dinner, so the campus had fallen into a peaceful lull. Free of her bag for the time being, Whiskey tucked her hands into her pockets. “We should be pretty safe to talk now,” she said, glancing over at Rin. “What were you wondering about?”

“Oh, yeah, that!” Rin blinked, as if he’d forgotten what he’d even asked for in the first place. Casting one more glance around them for good measure, Rin sucked in a breath. “I wanted to ask about how you summoned those demons today.”


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Twelve

* * *

The moment the question popped out of his mouth, Rin started to have second thoughts. Whiskey looked like he had grimaced for a moment, but he corrected his expression quickly in a gesture almost identical to Yukio hiding his agitation in front of strangers. Rin glanced over the path before them, hoping for a distraction, but the thinned out foot traffic of the school didn’t offer much reprieve.

Whiskey sighed, running a hand through his short bangs. “Yeah, I guess you’d wanna ask about that,” he said, his tone casual. He folded his hands behind his head, his olive-colored eyes glancing up at the changing colors of the sky. “I dunno if you guessed, but what I did isn’t what normal Tamers usually do. Though that’s probably the closest thing we can call it if you use the True Cross system.”

Rin nodded. “You didn’t need to use a summoning circle or a chant or anything,” he said, remembering how Whiskey had brought a Coal Tar into the air without even trying. Something about the process had made his tail almost stand up on end underneath his uniform, but he wasn’t sure why. “Is that some sort of half-demon thing? ‘Cause that’s pretty cool!”

Whiskey raised an eyebrow at him. “You think it’s cool?”

“Uh, yeah, why wouldn’t I? What’s _not_ badass about being able to summon a demon in a completely different way than anyone else?” Rin hadn’t been able to make any progress with the circle he’d been given in class, but maybe… “Hey, do you think I could do something like that, too?” he asked, pointing at himself.

“Huh?” Whiskey looked very confused for a moment before he shook his head with a smile. “You and Ruma and Mocha-chan all had the same reaction. Just goes to show you…” He trailed off on his last words, dropping his arms back to his sides. “Look, while you’re part right in that what I did ‘cause I’m a half demon, I doubt you’d be able to do it since you have different parentage than I do. Your abilities don’t line up that way.”

_So that means there are things that even being a Son of Satan can’t do, huh?_ Rin looked down at his hand, remembering the way that the azure flames curled around his fingers, around his very being. He needed to get a handle on _that_ power first before he even picked up having any new ones. “I guess you’re right.” Not wanting to think too hard about things he couldn’t change, Rin shoved his hands in his pockets. “So if it doesn’t work by opening up a contract with a demon or whatever, how does it work? Um, if you don’t mind talking about it.”

Whiskey waved a hand through the air as if brushing off Rin’s concerns. “I don’t mind explaining. Just do me a favor and don’t tell anyone else about it. Mocha-chan and Ruma know, but I don’t wanna deal with anyone else making a fuss about it.” Rin nodded; it was only fair since Whiskey was keeping his secret in return. “As far as we know, I’m the only person who has this exact type of ability. Because of how it works, we decided to call it Submission—ah, _Teishutsu_,” he added in translation when Rin stared blankly at the term he thought was in English.

Rin grimaced a bit before he could stop himself. “That’s both kinda cool and kinda scary.”

Whiskey nodded with an almost sad smile on his face. “That’s ‘cause it is—at least the second part.” He pressed a hand to his chest, close to his heart. “I know you’re still getting a grip on all this demon stuff, so I don’t wanna info dump on you. But you know how we were talking about the different classes of demons in class?” Rin nodded; he still hadn’t gotten a grip on all of them, but it was enough like the setup of a manga that he wasn’t too lost in those lectures. “If you wanna get technical, I’m kin of space and time. And for me, that’s manifested as a sort of sub-dimension inside of me. Making sense so far?”

“Kinda?” Rin took a moment to collect his thoughts and grabbed onto the first nonsensical thing that came to mind. “You mean like _Doraemon_?”

For the first time since the conversation had started, Whiskey’s expression lightened up in amusement. “Close enough, really. Except I can’t store whatever I like. I can only really store demons. So I guess it’s closer to _Pokémon _than anything else. I can only really summon what I absorb first, and I gotta touch the demon to do that in the first place.”

It wasn’t a perfect understanding, but Rin at least felt like he had a much better grip on the situation than he did before. As they started to approach the exit from the school grounds, he lowered his voice a bit. “Why’s it called Subu—Su—” He gave up on pronouncing the English. “Why’s it got a name like that then?”

“Ah, yeah.” Whiskey gripped onto his upper arm, almost looking ashamed as he bit his lip.

Rin immediately went to backpedal. “L-like I said, you don’t gotta talk about it if you don’t wanna!” The last thing he wanted to do was isolate Whiskey after they’d been able to make up; it was nice to have someone to talk to about half-demon things besides Yukio, plus having a guy friend to offset the rest of the girls.

“Seriously, Rin-kun, it’s okay. I should probably talk about it more.” Whiskey sucked in a breath and put on a determined face. “I can only really absorb a demon if I can overpower them—whether it’s by pure strength or if I can get them to be scared enough of me to not fight it. Otherwise it fails and I end up worse for wear. I gotta make ‘em submit to me, and so—” He waved his hand in a _there you have it_ gesture.

“Gotcha.” As if he expected that to be the end of the conversation, Whiskey looked forward, leading the way on the turn towards the closest grocery store. Feeling somewhat guilty for pressing about a sensitive subject like that, Rin couldn’t help but add, “I still think it’s a cool power, though.” If nothing else it was a hell of a lot more useful than being the son of Satan, and Rin almost wished he’d had an ability that could be useful, rather than just a symbol of destruction.

Whiskey’s stride faltered a bit at the words, but when he turned back to Rin, there was only a smile forming on his lips. “Thanks for saying so.” Several questions that Rin couldn’t place the reasons for came to mind, but Whiskey continued before any of them could form into spoken words. “I don’t like using it, much, though, so like I said I’d super appreciate you not telling anyone else about it, okay?”

“I got you; no worries.” Considering that he only the had the framework of forming friendships at the moment, Rin didn’t exactly _have_ anyone to spill the details, too, but he’d keep the information to himself, regardless—part of the promise between two half-demons aiming to become exorcists. As they moved closer to the shopping district, the sounds of the evening crowds started to draw closer, and Rin changed the subject to a safer topic for talking in public. “I also got you for dinner. Since you’re paying, it’s only fair that you go ahead and pick out what we’re having. So what’s on the menu for tonight?”

Whiskey’s expression lit back up again, reinvigorated by the promise of a home cooked meal. “So I don’t know what all sorts of cooking styles you’re comfortable with, but I had some ideas…”

* * *

Rin didn’t think he’d ever seen such a large haul of groceries in his life, and that included the times that he’d helped with shopping for the monastery. In fact, they’d gotten so much that it took a combination of their heightened strength as half-demons and messing around with the magic key for the Cram School to get everything back in good time. Rin had attempted several times to get Whiskey to slow down or buy less expensive items, but he’d shown no qualms about loading up their baskets with top-class meat or passing over a card to pay on the way out. He hadn’t even let Rin see the total of the whole endeavor, insisting that it was his treat and Rin was making up for it plenty by preparing the raw ingredients into a proper meal.

“Well, it’s not like all of this is gonna cook itself,” Rin said, rolling back his sleeves as he looked over the plethora of plastic bags across the countertops. For the most part, he knew what he was going to prepare with what, though there was no way they could eat it all in one night, even counting the servings for Yukio. _We’re probably gonna be able to eat off this for a whole week, so I better make it good!_

Thankfully, unlike all the other things Rin was still trying to adjust to in his life, the kitchen was his undisputed element. Sure, he wasn’t familiar with every recipe that Whiskey had suggested, and he got the timing wrong on a few things, but nothing catastrophic happened. In what had apparently taken an hour but only felt like a few minutes, Rin had succeeded in loading the practical buffet onto platters. Whiskey, who had been studying in the otherwise empty dining hall, hopped up once he saw Rin coming and helped with toting the meal in.

Though he restrained himself well during the process, Whiskey didn’t hesitate to sit down with a plate and chopsticks at the first chance he got. “Thanks for the food,” he said, glancing at Rin as if waiting for permission.

“Go ahead and dig in, alright?” Rin said, helping himself to some of the beef yakisoba he’d prepared. For a few scant seconds, all that moved were his eyes, roving over the entire spread before starting a high speed mission to cram as many different entrees and sides onto his plate as possible. Rin smiled to himself and tucked into what he had started with, still keeping an eye on Whiskey to see how he reacted to the meal.

“Oh, Nii-san, you made dinner already?” Yukio’s voice said from the doorway. He hadn’t bothered to change out of his exorcist’s jacket, so he must’ve been fresh home from the cram school. Upon noticing the practical five-course meal before him, Yukio’s eyes went wide enough to notice even front a distance. “This is…a lot of food.”

Rin swallowed his bite of yakisoba (which was probably the best damn thing he’d ever tasted; who would’ve thought top-grade meat would make _that_ much of a difference?) and let out a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, we both kinda got carried away. Whiskey offered to buy some ingredients if I let him eat with us, so…”

Across the table, Whiskey paused with an entire piece of shrimp tempura halfway to his mouth, his eyes having drifted to Yukio. Rin’s friend and his brother took a moment to size each other up, almost like they were having some private conversation Rin had no real way to understand whatsoever. Yukio recovered first, clearing his throat with a cough. “I didn’t realize Pheles-san would be over tonight.”

“Well, it was a spur of the moment thing, _Sensei_,” Whiskey said, putting his chopsticks down to his otherwise untouched plate. Rin might have been hearing things, but there was an almost pronounced extra layer to Whiskey’s speech. “As you can see, there’s plenty for everyone to share, so come and take a seat.”

“Yeah, it’s super good!” Rin said, waving Yukio over with his free hand. “I already got your plate out, so sit your butt down.”

Rin caught Yukio and Whiskey trading off another glance, but it was over too quickly for him to have any idea what was going on. All he could do was hope that his food was good enough to combat the weird atmosphere, and he focused on devouring what was on his plate, eyeing the others. Yukio ultimately came to sit down at Rin’s side, and Whiskey picked up his shrimp tempura once more, the food finally making it to his mouth.

A high pitched squeal followed soon after.

“What the fuck? This is so good.” While Whiskey wasn’t as much of a stiff as Yukio, he did tend to carry himself in a somewhat more proper way—but that instantly melted as he worked on shoveling as many different bites of food into his mouth at once, his chopsticks almost a blur. “Rin-kun, I’m doubling down on my offer to hire you as my chef just in case this exorcist thing doesn’t work out. Mmm—!”

Rin chuckled, unsure if his cheeks were turning red or if he hadn’t fully cooled down from his time in the kitchen. “I’m glad you like it, especially since you bought so much stuff for it.”

Whiskey nodded, his eyes almost looking like they had formed stars. “This meal is one of the best investments of my life.”

“Pheles-san is right. You’ve done an excellent job, Nii-san.” While quieter in his compliments, that didn’t make Yukio’s words mean any less. He was acting with a bit more restraint, though, but Rin could still tell his twin was satisfied. “I guess I should also offer my thanks to you for helping with the budget, Pheles-san.”

Whiskey seemed to chew on his bite of rice for much longer than necessary, but he didn’t seem as agitated as earlier. “Don’t mention it. This works out well for me, too.” Without missing a beat, Whiskey turned back to face Rin. “You wouldn’t mind if I took some of this or lunch tomorrow, would you, Rin-kun? Maybe you were right and I should’ve held back a bit…”

“Don’t worry, we’ll work our way through it,” Rin said, already starting on his second servings. It was nice to have a lively dinner table again, anyways. “Once we’re done, I’ll pack up the leftovers and I’ll make an extra bento in the morning. We can meet up for lunch together, then.”

“Oh, if you don’t mind, then.” Whiskey smiled, though he looked a bit awkward. “I feel bad putting all the work on you, though…”

Rin shrugged. “I already make lunch for me and Yukio. It won’t make too much of a difference.”

“If you insist, I don’t suppose I have room to argue.” _Is he acting all formal to make up for losing his cool earlier?_ Rin didn’t quite understand, but he guessed it was part of what made Whiskey _Whiskey_. “Hm, too bad we’ll be handling our Exwire training soon, otherwise I’d say we could do this next week, too.”

“Things will be a bit too busy for that,” Yukio said, sipping at his bowl of soup, even though the steam began to fog up his glasses. Didn’t stop him from keeping a straight face, though. “We have a lot of material to cover, so I suggest you two don’t slack on your studies beforehand. It’ll be harder to catch up if you do.”

Rin sighed. “Do you gotta be such a stick in the mud, Yukio?”

“Well, the Exwire testing isn’t something that’s particularly simple,” Whiskey said, and Rin regretted saying anything. Whiskey and Yukio had their differences, but they were both sticklers for studying. “Depending on what they throw at us, we’ll probably have to use everything that we’ve covered so far one way or another. Hm, your Grimoire Lit is still kind of lacking, Rin-kun…”

“Hey, I am trying my best, here!”

“Oh?” Yukio asked, with a look of mock confusion on his face. “Is that why whenever I come home from work you just spend your time reading my manga? I don’t know all your other grades, but you’re still having trouble passing the Demon Pharmaceuticals curriculum, too.”

“Come on, you’re both gonna gang up on me?!” Rin’s tail stood up straight in agitation He waved a hand across the table. “Don’t forget who’s responsible for dinner around here. I don’t have to share.”

Yukio kept his straight expression as always. “You wouldn’t be able to eat all this on your own before it went bad.”

“I’ll consider this food payment for me helping you with your homework once we’re done,” Whiskey said, pressing her hands together and ducking his head, also serenely composed. “Once more, thanks for the meal.”

Though Yukio and Whiskey had both donned their poker faces, Rin broke out into a splutter of laughter first. Whiskey got caught up in it next, failing to hide his snicker behind his hand, and even Yukio let out a chuckle. A lightness came over Rin’s mind as some hidden tension inside him swept away with the sound.

It was the first time since Shiro passed away that the dinner table actually felt like _home_.

* * *

“Hm, not bad, not bad.”

Mephisto had retired to home for the evening, and he’d even changed into his pink yukata for the occasion. It seemed a bit out of place since he’d chosen to step outside onto one of the mansion’s balconies that overlooked True Cross Academy Town, but things such as Assiah’s weather didn’t do much to bother him. Above him sparkled the stars in the sky, while the buildings below lit up in their own points of light, as if answering what was above them.

“We’ve had an eventful time so far, but I’d suppose that’s just a taste of what will come, isn’t it?” He thought of his daughter, of his youngest brother, and of all the others surrounding them. “Well, it wouldn’t hurt to let them have a bit of peace for now, would it?”

Mephisto spared one more glance at the town below him before he turned up to the sky once more. Only the moon above bore witness to his grin.

“Not when the real game is just about to get started.”


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

After a long week of trying her best strategies, Haruhana Mocha found herself facing the unfortunate fact that she hadn’t been able to get through Okumura Yukio’s shell at all.

Saying hi when they passed in the halls? She’d get a polite response and a quick apology that he needed to be going on his way.

Slipping over to his classroom in hopes of catching him for lunch or between classes? He was already gone.

Asking for help with the cram school workload? He’d agree, but he’d prevent any side chatter and not break out of his teacher persona in the slightest.

“Mou, I can’t get him to sit down and hang out with me at all!”

In an uncharacteristic show of frustration, Mocha threw what she was holding right to the floor of the dorm room. Considering that it was just her pajamas, the projectile didn’t do much damage, but it was the intent that counted. With that show of irritation out of the way, she bent over to swipe the fuzzy pants up and folded them into her travel bag for the Exwire training camp. “I know that he’s gotta be busy, but that doesn’t mean he should be so standoffish. One of the best parts of going to school is getting to socialize and meet new people!”

“Maybe he knows that if he lets you get the upper hand then he won’t stand a chance,” Ruma said, hopping down from her bunk above Whiskey’s. Mocha chose to take the words as a compliment, as the power of enthusiasm and friendship had served her well in getting Ruma and Whiskey onto her side. Without any care, Ruma started tossing stuff towards her bed in a bout of last-minute packing.

“Well, it doesn’t matter!” Mocha said, pumping her fists in excitement. “This Exwire Training Camp thing is gonna last a few days, and Okumura-sensei is our main proctor. There’s no way he can avoid me whenever we’re gonna be stuck in the same building together!” _I won’t let him get away this time!_

Ruma snorted, the sound carrying across the room even as she dug into her portion of the closet. “With a trap like that, it’ll be a wonder if he survives—oh, here we go!” Ruma emerged with a tattered duffel bag in hand. “Actually, are you gonna make it, Whiskey? You’re not gonna go ahead and pick a fight with him because you’re going stir crazy, are you?”

Whiskey (who had naturally packed in advance) was sitting at her desk, thumbing through some manga. Her tail twitched at the comment. “I’ve survived having class with him this far, haven’t I?” Whiskey spun around in her seat, keeping place in her book with her finger. “Besides, I had dinner with him when I was hanging out with Rin-kun, and it wasn’t the worst thing ever. We didn’t apologize to each other or anything, but it was enough.” She caught sight of Ruma haphazardly stuffing her belongings into the duffel back, which just caused Whiskey nose to scrunch up in disgust. “Why is it that you always do things at the last minute? You could at least organize it a bit!”

“Nope, too much trouble,” Ruma said, continuing on as she was. “You’re not the one that’s gonna have to get into it, so it doesn’t matter to you, Whiskey.”

“That’s not the point at all, and you know it!”

Pulling the drawstring shut on her own back, Mocha dusted off her hands and set Whiskey in her sights for a glomp. Whiskey yelped but managed to keep them both from toppling off the edge of her desk chair. “C’mon, c’mon, Whiskey-chan, if you get irritated over every little thing that Ruma-chan does, you’re gonna get all sorts of wrinkles. You gotta take care of yourself.”

Whiskey spat Mocha’s pigtail from her mouth but did ease up her expression. “I’ll have a much easier time of practicing self-care whenever Ruma starts to practice common sense.”

Ruma put on a playful scowl. “We’re gonna be sleeping in a really tight space tonight. Just imagine what I can do.” Whiskey rolled her eyes, not taking the threat seriously, and Mocha giggled at the exchange. Finishing up her stuffed pack job, Ruma zipped her duffel bag and slung it over her shoulder before crossing the short space between them to flick Whiskey right in the forehead. “Besides, you’re anal enough for all three of us. Why would I bother acting like I can think rationally?”

“Uh, because that’s a skill you need to pass high school maybe?”

With a quick glance at the wall clock to confirm the time, Mocha hopped up into a proper standing position and put her hands on her hips. “Well, we gotta get through this Exwire program first so we can prove ourselves as exorcists! I’m counting on you my compatriots to assist me in the challenges ahead so that we can all shine to our best ability.”

Whiskey gave both of her friends a deadpan stare. “You do realize that the exam’s probably going to be some written exam, right? I can’t take that for you.”

“_Ack!_” Mocha said, flinching back as Ruma made a defeated sound in the back of her throat. Whiskey always went for the cutthroat blows.

“Well, you can help us study until then!” Ruma said, her voice a pitch higher than usual. Mocha nodded feverishly, not even caring that it sent her hair flying through the air. “But, hey, we don’t gotta report to the camp until a bit after breakfast. Let’s go ahead and get a good meal in beforehand so we have tons of energy.”

Mocha shot her hand up into the air. “Seconded!”

With a sigh, Whiskey picked up a bookmark she’d drawn for herself and tucked it into her manga. “You guys are really never gonna learn are you…?”

Her sentiment went unanswered as majority vote demanded a trip to the cafeteria.

* * *

Mocha had already been around the abandoned boys’ dorm on occasion due to hanging out with Rin, but it was a bit different to view the place in the daytime as opposed to leaving it at night. Ironically, the bright sunshine made it a lot easier to tell how creepy the place could be, since you could clearly see how the paint had started to peel and the cracks starting to form in the infrastructure. Though she could hear some of the other cram school kids wondering if the place was fit to use for their study camp, Mocha didn’t mind in the slightest.

“Hey, hey, Whiskey-chan, do you think we could get an abandoned dorm to ourselves? You just gotta ask your dad, right?”

“Yeah, you’re really not going to make any progress with your head in the clouds like that…”

Not even paying mind to Whiskey’s snide remark, Mocha skipped forward to where the Okumura twins were waiting on the front step, hand raised high in a wave. “Hey there, Rin-chan, Okumura-sensei! Let’s have a good training camp together, okay?”

Yukio nodded, that default polite smile on his face. “Yes, I’m hoping that you can all make some good progress over the week. We’re going to have everyone meet in the entrance hall and then we’ll settle down to work, so please go ahead inside.”

_Yup, that’s hardcore teacher mode for you. Not gonna make any progress here._ Keeping her own chipper smile on, Mocha gave Rin a thumbs up before heading inside with Whiskey and Ruma.

“Here, hold this.”

“Okay!”

Mocha glanced over her shoulder, catching the tail end of Kamiki dumping her bag on Moriyama. Mocha wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat as Kamiki waltzed in the entrance, her usual pigtails traded out for a sing side pony. Paku caught up to Moriyama, but Mocha couldn’t hear their exchange through Ruma’s scoff.

“That’s not cool at all,” she said, her hand clenched tight at her side. Whiskey had an uncomfortable look on her face, glancing between Kamiki and the door outside. Yes, they’d need to do something about it if things kept up, but getting all irritated before they were about to spend a whole training camp together was not for the best.

Mocha jumped as best she could to hook her arms around both Whiskey and Ruma’s necks, pulling them down to her level and sending their bags bumping against each other. “Look at how much you’ve grown up, Ruma-chan! Whiskey-chan, this is what they’d call character development, isn’t it?”

Ruma tried to scowl, but it wasn’t very effective. “Why you gotta put it like that?”

“Alright, that’s everyone,” Yukio’s voice called from the entryway. The collective of Suguro, Shima, and Konekomaru were working their way inside, adding a sort of excited muttering to the room. “We’re going to be using some rooms upstairs to sleep in. We’ll stop by the area we’ll be studying in, then I’ll give you a half-hour to put your things away before we meet up, alright?”

And with a collective response, their Exwire Exam Prep Camp began.

* * *

Neck deep in a pop quiz where half of the terms sounded like gibberish to her, Mocha found herself forced to admit that maybe banking on the camp to force Yukio to act like an ordinary person and make some friends had been a bit of poor insight.

They’d had extra exorcist-related lectures throughout the whole day, making Mocha almost miss her regular classes. Yukio hadn’t let up in the slightest, either, whether it was during their break periods or their meals. Even if he had put his guard down for a few moments, Mocha wouldn’t have had the mental capacity to even try.

They’d taken up an empty dorm room with a long table and everyone else was trying their best to make it through their assignment, the only sound in the room the scribbling of pencils. The tension in the air getting to her, Mocha tried to skim over her remaining questions to see if she had an idea on any of them, but all she had were incomplete thoughts or missing words. Remembering Whiskey’s advice that it was better to take a chance with a guess than leave something blank, Mocha filled in what she could, hoping for some luck.

“All right, time’s up. Turn over your papers and hand them in.” Yukio’s words sent a rush of sighs and groans throughout the room, and Mocha let go of her pencil with a clatter. Close by, Ruma did a faceplant into the worksheets. Whiskey and Suguro were two of the first to rise, looking confident in their work, and Kamiki followed after them, looking as smug as ever. Whenever Rin managed to pull himself to his feet, he looked just about ready to fall over. “That’s all for today. We’ll go over the answers tomorrow at six AM.”

Ruma let out another groan as she slumped back into her seat. “Who wants to be anywhere at six over the friggin’ holidays?” she asked. Whiskey just shook her head, working on packing up her school supplies with the same precision as always. “Dammit, who came up with this system anyways? I just wanna sleep in…”

The door opened and shut as Moriyama, Paku, and Kamiki left. Shima laughed. “A girls’ bath, huh? Nice!” he said without any sense of shame. “Ah, the joys of sleepovers! I’ll have to peek in!”

“Shima!” Suguro said, switching into scolding mode. “You’re sort of a monk you know!”

“Renzo and his bad behavior…” Konekomaru muttered.

“But I bet you wanna do it, too!”

Ruma roused herself enough from her faceplant to glare across the room. “You sure have some guts saying that stuff with some girls still in the room, y’know?”

Shima’s grin didn’t falter at all. “My bad, I forgot about Mocha-chan and Whiskey-chan! I didn’t mean to offend you, ladies. But, Ruma-chan, you’re so rough around the edges that it’s kinda hard to imagine you caring about stuff like that.”

“You wanna try saying that again?!”

Suguro and Konekomaru had enough presence to clear out of the way as Ruma attempted to strangle their friend. Whiskey shook her head but didn’t do anything to calm down the situation. Yukio was the one to clear his throat first. “Don’t forget your teacher is here,” he said in a perfect deadpan that sent out a stunned silence through the room. Even Ruma paused, though she didn’t release her hold on Shima, whose feet were dangling above the floor. “Izona-san, put Shima-kun down. I don’t mind if you all decide to bathe after the others but be sure to finish before curfew.”

“Sure thing, Okumura-sensei!” Mocha said, flashing a quick salute. Ruma seemed to give up on terrorizing Shima and dropped the boy back onto his feet. “Ruma-chan, Whiskey-chan, let’s go pick up some drinks so we can enjoy them after the bath!”

“Alright,” Whiskey said, standing up and stretching out. “I wanna review some of the stuff we covered real quick first. I can quiz you upstairs.”

“Huh?” Rin perked up enough from his study-induced stupor to stare. “Why would Whiskey come with you? He’s a guy.”

There was a beat of silence, which Ruma promptly broke by snorting. Mocha put a hand to her mouth to stifle her own giggle as Whiskey’s pointed ears started to turn a vibrant red. “Are you out of your mind?” Shima said, jabbing a finger at Rin. “Whiskey-chan’s got that certain charm that only girls have. Sure she’s a little flat and the guy uniform throws it off, but she’s still a girl!”

Ruma recaptured Renzo in a chokehold on Whiskey’s behalf. “Just where have you been looking, perv?!”

Whiskey did her best to lock eyes with Rin, though she still coughed in embarrassment. “Rin-kun,” she said, and Mocha caught a faint strain in Whiskey’s voice. “I mean, I don’t really have a problem if you think of me as guy, but I’m biologically a girl at least. Sorry if I didn’t make that clear.”

“Ah, no, that’s fine, I mean—” Rin had started to blush as well, color rushing to his face. “Sorry, I just thought— Gah, I’m gonna go get some air!” Summoning a burst of energy from the depths of his embarrassment, Rin rushed out of the room, not even bothering to close the door behind him.

Mocha regained her composure and rose to pat Whiskey on the shoulder. “I’ll buy your fruit milk tonight, Whiskey-chan.”

“Thanks…”

* * *

“Man, you just don’t have any luck at all, do you?” Ruma asked, tossing her school supplies into an unceremonious pile next to her overnight bag. Despite the old dorm being abandoned, they still had mattresses available, which Mocha was working on spreading out across the floor to take advantage of the sleepover feel.

Whiskey had taken to sulking in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest and forehead pressed against her knees. “This is stupid,” she groaned. Mocha decided that maybe she’d keep the fact that Whiskey’s ears were still red to herself. “I normally don’t care about that sort of thing. Why is it so embarrassing if he thought I was a guy?”

Mocha finished assembling the dorm mattresses in a line and flopped down to lay across them horizontally and stretched out her body as much as she could. “I have an idea why, Whiskey-chan, but you wouldn’t like the answer~,” she sang.

Ruma nodded, sitting down on a corner of the mattress that Mocha wasn’t taking up. “Bet,” she said, and they exchanged a quick handshake. Whiskey was too busy trying to block out the rest of the world to even bother to ask. Ruma’s smirk didn’t fade as she focused on Mocha. “You haven’t been getting anywhere with Jerk-sensei, either, huh Mocha-chan? What was that about a special plan?”

“_Hmph!_ It’s a work in progress!” Crossing her arms, Mocha turned her head away from Ruma. Yukio had to have _some_ sort of weakness to open himself up, and she was going to find it if it was the last thing she did! What was the point of coming to the training camp if she couldn’t do at least that much? “You know first-hand that my friendship strategies do not fail!”

“Yeah, by pure stubbornness of nothing else.” Ruma leaned in to ruffle Mocha’s hair. She accepted the compliment. “I’m sure you’ll get him eventually. I mean, you befriended Whiskey, and she’s just as hardheaded.”

“You’re one to talk,” Whiskey said, raising her head enough to glower over her knees. The fact that she was pouting ruined the effect, though. “Are you doing okay staying so close with everyone, Mocha-chan? I know you’re fine in class and stuff, but it’s a bit different when we’re all staying over for the night.”

Mocha rolled onto her side, not even bothering to adjust her skirt as it started to slip. “I’m fine. Don’t start worrying about me over something silly like that. Once Moriyama-chan and the others finish up in the bath, we can go ahead and have a nice soak before we go to bed. Just like usual.”

“Yeah, about that…” Ruma shifted, a frown crossing over her face. “I dunno if it’s okay to just let her hang around with Kamiki. I know it’s probably not my place to judge, but it’s seriously not cool what’s going on at all.”

“I agree,” Whiskey said. Though her and Ruma’s serious tones were perfectly rational, Mocha didn’t like seeing everyone look so down. “Kamiki isn’t making her do anything dangerous, but it’s still not fair to Mori—What?” Her face scrunched up in confusion.

Mocha sat up. “Whiskey-chan?”

“Quiet please.” She must’ve been hearing something that Mocha and Ruma couldn’t pick up. They exchanged glances but stayed quiet, letting Whiskey focus. “Ah, dammit!” Whiskey hauled herself up to feet. “Kamiki and Paku-san just screamed from the bath. I’m gonna go ahead. You guys go get Yukio-kun!”

“Huh, for real?!” Ruma asked, but Whiskey had already bolted out the door, her thundering footsteps fading down the hall. Not one to be outdone, Ruma stood, and Mocha did the same. “Well, you heard her, Mocha-chan. Let’s go get Jerk-sensei!”

“Right behind you!”

Mocha and Ruma bolted out of the room, headed towards where Yukio had said he’d be in case they needed anything. But even though Mocha trusted Whiskey to handle what was happening, she still didn’t the fact that trouble was so close, even if Kamiki was on the receiving end.

_Please, please let this be something we can take care of!_

She had no idea if her prayer meant anything, but Mocha had no choice but to believe things would be okay.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

The sound of Kamiki and Paku’s screams was still ringing in Whiskey’s ears as she ran as quickly towards the bath as she could. Along with that, the crawling sensation of a nearby antagonistic demon prickled—and it just got stronger the more Whiskey opened her powers up. Her jaw was clenched tight, and her incisors grated against the rest of her teeth as they lengthened into fangs, but she didn’t bother to fall back. Rin might have felt uncomfortable showing off his half-demon status, but Whiskey had already learned that others’ safety was far more important than her secrecy.

_If it comes down to it, I’ll go all-out, but if we’re lucky—_

Her hopes for a peaceful resolution didn’t last long as a rotten, sulfuric scent worked its way into her nose. Whiskey almost gagged, but she dealt with it as she charged forward. As she rounded the corner, she saw another figure rush into the bathroom. When she entered the room seconds later, she realized Rin had come running to help, too, and he was standing between Izumo and her familiars. Unlike before, the twin foxes had their hackles raised, growls slipping from their throats as they stared down their summoner with ill intent.

“Rip the circle! The paper!” Rin shouted, and Izumo complied. The foxes vanished in swirls of mist, and Whiskey felt a split second of pride at Rin for remembering his lessons correctly before she realized that the foxes hadn’t been the problem.

The naeberius was.

Whiskey drew to a halt when she was at Rin’s side, sizing up the demon before them. No wonder she’d smelled sulfur and rot. Izumo must’ve tried to summon the foxes to help but lost control. Thankfully, she appeared physically unharmed, if not shaken and in her undergarments. Paku unfortunately wasn’t as lucky, seeing as she was collapsed on the floor nearby and with a dark wound forming on her arm. It was a nasty looking temptaint and could cause injury if left untended to, but Whiskey didn’t have anything on her that could do any good.

_Dammit, I talked big about being a Doctor, but I can’t even do something about this…?_

“Rin-kun!”

“Shiemi?!”

Moriyama burst into the room, looking out of breath. “Paku!” she gasped, rushing up to the fallen girls’ side. Atop her head, the baby greenman she’d summoned as a familiar chirped in worry. All too aware with what that species of demon could pull off, Whiskey put the pieces together.

“Moriyama-san, can you take care of Paku-san for us?” she said, finally settling into the weird calm that could find her in the middle of battle. Moriyama looked perplexed for a moment but nodded in determination. Whiskey stepped forward, knowing that, for the moment, the best thing she could do was serve as a protector. “Rin-kun, me and you are the safest fighting that thing. Let’s hold it off while Moriyama-san handles Paku-san!”

“Hunh?” Whiskey didn’t give him time to think, heading towards the naeberius. If she could make contact, she could potentially pull of a Submission. While it would sting to touch it, her half-demon body would heal much faster from a temptaint than the other girls’ could. Rin clicked his tongue and pulled his kendo bag off his back, awkwardly wielding it as a sword as he smacked the naeberius straight on top of one of its heads. “Easier said than done, but alright! This way, you gross freak!”

Leaving Rin to handle aggro, Whiskey dove in, aiming a kick at the demon’s head. It took the blow but kept its focus on Rin instead.

“**My…young…prince.**”

_What the hell’s that supposed to—_

Whiskey couldn’t even finish her thought before the naeberius grabbed onto Rin’s head with one of its thick hands and flung him through the glass doors towards the bath. A great crash and the following downpour of tinkling glass threatened to give Whiskey a headache, but she followed after the demon as it charged after Rin, trusting Moriyama to handle Paku and Izumo.

“Who said you could do whatever you want?!” Whiskey shouted, jumping straight onto the naeberius’s back. The was a faint hissing sound accompanied by blended stench of rot, sulfur, and burning as its toxic skin began to melt away her uniform. The naeberius paused as it noticed her attack. Opening up her powers and putting as much force into the word as she could muster, Whiskey shouted, “_Submit!_”

She’d opened her Submission wide, even though it sent a faint pang of pain through her chest. Despite that, the naeberius didn’t so much as start to slip towards her abilities. Finally deeming her enough of an annoyance to counter, the demon reared, sending Whiskey flying off. She slammed into the wall, a faucet jamming straight into her spine. Shards of glass scraped her palms as she hit the ground, only registering as a faint sting.

_What the hell’s anchoring that thing down that it won’t even bend a bit to Submission? I know I’m stronger than some dumb mid-ranked kin of rot!_

The naeberius made it over to Rin, one of its rotted hands clamping down on his neck. “**Forgive…me,**” the naeberius said in its croaking voice. Rin made a choking sound as Whiskey staggered back to her feet. “**I act…on the will…of my master.**”

Was someone controlling it? That was at least as concerning as the idea of a demon as strong as a naeberius being able to sneak inside her father’s barriers around the Academy. It wasn’t something she could take on while restricting herself, and Whiskey started to channel more of her demonic abilities, letting a snarl slip out of her throat as her nails started to elongate into sharper points, becoming claws. She knew from past experience that her ears were lengthening and that her pupils were shifting shape to be less like a human’s and more like a monsters’.

_But if that’s what it takes to protect everyone—_

“Rin! Pheles-san!”

With her senses tipped to the maximum, the hail of gunfire was almost deafening, and Whiskey slammed her hands over her ears. Yukio had arrived, and he stood in the entryway, his still smoking gun raised. The naeberius turned both of its heads at the new opponent. In that moment, it must’ve decided whatever it was after wasn’t worth it, as it leapt with surprising grace and broke out of the windows near the top of the bath.

Even with the threat gone, it took Whiskey a few moments to calm herself enough to stop twitching at every single movement. Two more breaths and she was able to pull back her demon abilities to their regular, stagnant state. Rin seemed to be doing well enough, as he was able to sit up and start chewing out his brother for showing up late.

“Whiskey-chan!”

Mocha launched herself at Whiskey, not even caring that she was stepping on glass. The force of the hug was great enough that Whiskey’s legs decided it was much more practical to give out, and she and Mocha collapsed on the ground together. Thanks to the dampness against Whiskey’s skin and Mocha’s shaking shoulders, it was obvious she was crying. Whiskey raised her once more ordinary hands and patted Mocha’s shoulders.

“Shhh, it’s okay, Mocha-chan. I’m okay.”

“Stupid, Whiskey-chan. Running off and doing things by yourself all the time…”

“Hey, hey, that’s why I had you guys go get Yukio-kun. Besides, I had Rin-kun with me, too. We weren’t by ourselves.” Mocha pulled back enough to deliver a weak headbutt to Whiskey’s chest. Whiskey just left her to it, drawing reassuring circles on Mocha’s back. Even from their awkward angle, the broken door made it very easy to see into the changing room. The rest of the class seemed to have arrived, all of them hovering over Moriyama. “How’s Paku-san?”

“She’s fine,” Ruma said, waltzing over. Whiskey was jealous of how cool and calm Ruma managed to look. “Sounds like Moriyama took care of her with that greenman of hers. Everyone’s gonna be okay.” Once she was in proximity, Ruma knelt down to Whiskey’s eye level. “If you run off like that all the time, you’re gonna give Mocha-chan a conniption. You know we decided to come to cram school because we wanted to stand up for ourselves. Stop acting like we’re hopeless, dammit.” Without any concern for the fact that she had just been in a fight, Ruma delivered a not so gentle karate chop to Whiskey’s forehead.

“Oi, oi, oi!” With Mocha still hugging onto her for dear life, Whiskey didn’t have any options to retreat, either. “I got it, I got it. If something stupid happens again, I’ll try not to run off on my own.” The ideal situation would be a remarkable lack of sudden demon attacks, but she got the feeling that wasn’t possible. _The naeberius mentioned having a master, plus I couldn’t drag it into Submission. Maybe someone summoned it…?_

“Dammit, don’t space out on me when I’m chewing you out.” Ruma scowled, delivering another blow to Whiskey. If she hadn’t already been forming a headache, the constant head trauma was likely to cause one. “What the hell are you so caught up in that you can’t even focus for five minutes?”

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just trying to process what happened.” She wasn’t about to bother them with her dumb theories when they had to be panicked enough. Maybe she’d fill them in later, but for the moment it’d do everyone some good to keep it a secret. Making sure she wasn’t obviously looking like she was avoiding Ruma’s gaze, Whiskey glanced around the mess the skirmish had made of the place. “Looks like we’re gonna need to use a different bath, huh?”

Mocha let out a sound that was half sniffle, half laugh. “Stupid, stupid Whiskey-chan. I’m not buying your fruit milk anymore.”

“Got it, I’ll cover the drink bill for the night.”

“Haruhana-san, Izona-san, Pheles-san.” The trio looked up at the sound of Yukio’s voice. The rest of the group was filing out, with Moriyama covering her face for some reason. “We’re going to move Paku-san to a different room so I can finish treating her and she can rest. It’d be better if we leave this place be so no one gets hurt. Would you all mind evacuating for now?”

“Sure thing,” Ruma said, standing up and offering a hand to Mocha. The smaller girl took it, managing to stand up. They both had tears in their socks but were otherwise alright. “Come on, Mocha-chan. Let’s see if we can snag the other bath and calm down.”

“Mmkay, Ruma-chan.”

Whiskey pulled herself up to follow, with only a faint buzz of adrenaline still surging through her. Even without it, though, she didn’t feel any pain, as her accelerated healing had taken care of her otherwise assorted injuries. She was about to leave the room, except she caught sight of Rin—his back to a wall, a hand hidden behind him, and minus the long-sleeved shirt she was pretty sure he’d still had on during the fight—which was enough to bring her feet to a halt.

“Whiskey!” he said, his voice shifted up half an octave. Once he remembered who was in the room with him, he released his tail, which he’d apparently been trying to hide from the others. “Are you okay? Paku got hit with that necro-whatsit, but I healed up right away. I dunno if your healing works the same way as mine, but—what happened to your clothes?!”

For the second time that evening, Rin’s face flamed into a brilliant red. It took Whiskey a moment to recognize why until it registered that she’d jumped pull bodied onto a naeberius, which in turn had taken a chunk out of the front of her blazer. It wasn’t enough to be anything drastic, as her tie had taken the brunt of the damage, but it still happened to expose a bit of her neckline, as well as a glimpse of her bra underneath.

_Honestly._

“Calm down!” Caught up in Rin’s hysteria, Whiskey half-shouted back. “Kamiki-san was running around in just her underwear and you didn’t near panic as much!”

“That’s because there was an emergency! And I already gave her my shirt, so I can’t do the same thing here.” So that was where it had gone. Behind him, Rin’s tail was twitching in agitation. “Besides, isn’t it weird, to, y’know…?”

“Weird to what exactly?” Not even bothering to cover the hole in her clothes, Whiskey propped a hand onto her hip. “You didn’t even think I was a girl until like an hour ago. And it’s not like it matters anyway! I have way bigger things to fuss about then whether I’m acting accordingly to the damn body parts I was born with.” Realizing she was working herself up into an unnecessary tirade, Whiskey sucked in a deep breath and started to massage her temples, begging to keep the pounding in her skull at bay. “Look, it’s been a giant mess. Can we not make this awkward because I have slightly different biology than you? Let’s just be friends like we have been, okay?”

Rin took a moment to process what was Whiskey was saying, and she took the time to survey the damage to her uniform once more. Objectively speaking, it wasn’t so bad, but it would be enough to throw the whole mess out. Thankfully she’d packed another one to change into. Though she would’ve overall been happier if she didn’t have any powers whatsoever, it was issues like this that made Whiskey wish she’d inherited a slightly different ability set than what she had from her father.

“Sorry,” Rin said, looking down at the ground. Whiskey let him talk. “You’re right; that stuff doesn’t matter. I still like being your friend. It was stupid of me to get so worked up.” Rin reestablished eye contact, the lovely blue color of his eyes almost burning like a warm fire. “If you say you don’t care about that stuff, I’ll try not to, either. Just go easy on me if I get worked up, okay?”

Whiskey smiled, the warmth of his honesty reaching her heart. “Deal,” she said. Instead of offering a hand to take, she slipped her damaged blazer off her shoulders and held it out to Rin. “You don’t want anyone to see your tail, right? That’ll be easier if you cover it up. Can’t say it’ll fit perfect, but it’ll at least get you upstairs without any problems.”

“Oh, thanks.” Rin accepted the jacket, the look on his face signaling that he hadn’t thought of that problem at all. “Um, I’m guessing you don’t really want this back, huh? Uh, I’ll pay you back for it somehow!”

“Don’t worry about it, Rin-kun.”

As far as Whiskey was concerned, he’d already done enough.

* * *

_This doesn’t have to be awkward. Why are you making this awkward? Goddammit, Whiskey, you can full body tackle a naeberius, but you can’t own up to your own stupid mistakes?_

The answer, apparently, was no.

She stood outside the room Suguro had mentioned he’d taken Paku to, debating on whether it was worth it to head inside. If she was just there to visit Paku, it wouldn’t be so bad, but Whiskey knew that Yukio would likely be there, ensuring that the injured girl was safe. Moriyama had managed to use her baby greenman (Nii-chan, she seemed to have named it) to summon some aloe, so Paku should be in the clear, but kin of rot had nasty ways of leaving their mark on humans in the aftermath.

_Yukio-kun is still your Demon Pharmaceuticals teacher. You won’t be able to do this without him._

Whiskey allowed herself one last steadying inhale before she gently knocked on the door and opened it a crack. “Can I come in?”

There was an elongated pause (or maybe her nerves were just making her imagine it) before Yukio said, “Come in, Pheles-san.” Making sure she couldn’t chicken out, Whiskey intentionally took a few steps inside the threshold. She still avoided eye contact with Yukio seated at the bedside and glanced at Paku, who seemed to have fallen asleep. “If you were worried about Paku-san, she’s in the safe zone. We’re just taking precautionary measures.”

Whiskey mutely nodded; her father had made sure that she knew most treatments for demon ailments in her studies—and it had done her absolutely no good on the scene. Instead, she’d had to resort to brute force to even make a difference. Maybe it was a bit arrogant of her to think she could do better before even earning her official Exwire certification, but still.

“Yukio-kun,” she said, the syllables coming haltingly out of her mouth. After so long calling him _Okumura-sensei_ out of spite, it felt strange to revert back to informal speech. Yukio glanced up, his expression simmering in a sense of confusion. “Look I’m…really sorry for blowing up on you before. I was upset because you were talking trash about Vati. And, yeah, I’m still mad you went and said all that, but I shouldn’t have used it as an excuse to fight with you.” With the space between then and the present, she could recognize that she’d been worn out from her shitty day and had handled it poorly—just like always. “I… It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it. But I miss Shiro-kun, too. So I guess I’m here if you ever feel ready to open up about it. And, yeah, I’m sorry.”

She still hadn’t had the courage to look him in the eyes, so she wasn’t sure what to expect when she finally glanced to Yukio. He seemed to be in a similar awkward state of mind, seeing as he was staring down his medical equipment without actually _doing_ anything with it. After what stretched on for another eternity, he said, “I was in the wrong, too. I should’ve handled things better seeing as I’m your teacher…and also your friend.”

Whiskey’s draw dropped straight open; it was the first time she could remember Yukio referring to their relationship as _friends_. Her manners snapped her mouth shut as she tried to regain some sense of her composure. “Well I don’t know about what you think, but I’m forgiving you, Yukio-kun. And, well, if you feel the same…” Despite her negotiation training, she still hesitated. “I was serious. About wanting to become a Doctor. But when the naeberius hurt Paku-san, I couldn’t do anything to fix her other than fight.” Her Submission failing hadn’t helped matters, either. “I want to be able to save people. So if you could, I’d like it if you’d teach me more.”

Bowing at the end of her request squandered what fraction of conversational advantage she’d managed to gain, but Whiskey didn’t care. Apologizing had been tricky enough, but opening up her insecurities even further burned in her chest like the strain from Submission. She felt open and raw, and she didn’t want Yukio to see as her face twisted up in worry.

“You know,” Yukio said, his voice calm and thoughtful, without any of the irritated edge Whiskey had feared, “Shiemi-san said that you were the one that asked her to take care of Paku-san. You may not have had the tools on hand to help, but you gave the job to someone who could. Those are the sorts of decisions a Doctor needs to reliably make.” _Wait, is he saying…?_ “If you ask me, you already have the right state of mind for it, Pheles-san. You just need the equipment so you can act on those thoughts.”

Nervousness still swirled in her stomach as she peaked through her bangs. Yukio’s expression had relaxed somewhat, though there was still a tiredness beneath it all. “So, then…?”

“Our schedule is a bit packed during this training camp, but I see no reason why I can’t give you extra help afterwards. We’ll start doing more specific lessons for meisters then, but I don’t have any oppositions to helping you get ahead—” his face shifted into an uncharacteristic taunting smile “—ah, excuse me, if you can keep up, that is?”

The only reason that Whiskey was able to keep her voice down was thanks to the sleeping Paku. “Just who do you think you’re talking to?!” Whiskey hissed. “I may not be as accomplished as you are, but that’s because I didn’t want to be. But now that I care, no little extra study program you throw at me is gonna give me trouble. Next time, you won’t even have to show up to the fight.”

“Is that so, Pheles-san?” Yukio’s expression softened, and Whiskey realized just how rarely she’d seen him smile. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Fifteen

* * *

On most days, Whiskey was the first one up in the dorm room, sneaking in some early morning studying (if she was feeling ambitious) or a few anime episodes that had aired far too late to watch life (which tended to be more often the case). But on the morning following the Naeberius attack, Mocha awoke first to the sunlight streaming in through the windows. Beside her on their combined futons, Whiskey was still dead asleep, while Ruma was snoring, sprawled out in all directions with an arm and leg both intruding on Whiskey’s territory. Mocha kept her giggle quiet as she eased out of her blankets.

_Whiskey-chan’s probably tired from fighting that demon last night, and it’s near impossible to wake Ruma-chan up when she doesn’t have to._ Since Okumura-sensei needed to tend to Paku’s injuries, he’d canceled their early morning quiz review. Deciding it would be best to let her roommates rest, Mocha gathered up her toiletries so she could wash up her face in the hall.

“Oh, Shiemi-chan!” The girl in question turned around, a toothbrush already in her mouth as she stood at the communal sink. Unable to really speak, Shiemi tossed up a wave, and Mocha fell into place beside her. “Did you manage to sleep okay?”

Shimei took a moment longer to wash the toothpaste from her mouth before spitting into the sink. “Yes, I did. What about you, Mocha-chan?”

“Yup, I slept a lot!” Mostly because Whiskey and Ruma had been close enough to reassure her, but she felt rested after waking up, so that was all that mattered. The splash of cold water as she washed her face chased away whatever traces of sleepiness were still around. “You mentioned being excited about being able to stay over somewhere before. Are you enjoying yourself then?”

“I am!” Like a flower bursting into bloom, a wide grin stretched across Shiemi’s face. “Like I told you and Izona-san before, I’ve never had a sleepover or anything. Though it would have been nice if we didn’t have that demon attack. Oh, and it would’ve been fun to have all us in a big room together. I don’t want to cause any trouble, but maybe we can bring it up next time.”

Mocha hummed, stuffing her toothbrush into her mouth to have a convenient excuse not to answer in full. There was a reason they hadn’t stuffed all the girls in one room together, but, as nice as Shiemi was, Mocha didn’t feel ready to bring it up just yet. In time, yes, but not right away. Not when there were other concerns, like demons running around on the loose. Sure, the incident hadn’t gone too far, and Paku was fine, but Mocha couldn’t shake the faint feeling of dread that had settled into the pit of her stomach.

She tried anyway, spitting out her mix of toothpaste and water with way more force than necessary before toweling off her face. “Well Okumura-sensei took care of things last night, so we shouldn’t have anything else to worry about aside from making sure we’re taking care of classes.” _Ah, forget it, I think I’d rather fight a demon than deal with any more quizzes. _Sighing, Mocha wondered if she would even have any time to pester Yukio into being her friend if he was tending to Paku on top of everything else.

“Well, I’m glad that we have Yuki-chan to take care of things,” Shimei said, gathering up her things into a small flower patterned bag. “I was really worried that what I did for Paku-san wouldn’t be enough, but Yuki-chan was amazing and he took care of her injuries just like that!” Stars sparkled in Shiemi’s eyes, and Mocha giggled.

And she also got an idea.

“Hey, Shiemi-chan, you mentioned to us before that you’ve known Okumura-sensei for a while, right?” Still smiling, Shiemi nodded, and her pale complexion made it easy to tell that she was blushing. “Well I’ve been thinking about getting to know him better, because he totally looks like he could use some more friends, but he’s always so busy. Do you think you could help me out?”

“Oh! Of course, I can. You’ve been so nice to me, Mocha-chan. I’m sure Yuki-chan would get along with you well. We’ll have to do something once we finish up with our training camp.” Mocha beamed, plans already starting to formulate in her mind. With Shiemi on her side, there was no way that Yukio could give Mocha the cold shoulder—and from there, she just had to work her usual charms, and they’d be friends in no time! Seeming to realize how long she’d been standing around, Shiemi gasped. “Sorry, Mocha-chan! I decided to take care of the laundry, and I need to hang it up before we need to head to class.”

“Hey, I could help you out with that. As thanks for helping with Sensei.”

“That’d be great! Just let me drop my stuff in my room, and I’ll meet you on the roof.”

“Kay!”

Mocha waved as Shiemi dashed back into the dorm halls, then got to work on packing up her things. It was looking like it would be a busy day ahead. _But now that I have an in, Sensei doesn’t stand a chance. I befriended Whiskey-chan and Ruma-chan. I can totally handle this!_

Feeling enthusiastic for what was the come, Mocha skipped back to her own room, ready to go hang some laundry.

* * *

Whiskey normally considered herself a good student who would pay attention in class, but she was having trouble concentrating. It wasn’t because of most of things that had been worrying her before—her conversation with Yukio the previous night had helped boost her mood considerably. Instead, it was the _smell_ that was bothering her, the one that she noticed once she had sat down for Magic Circles and Seals.

The smell of kin of rot.

It made sense. She knew it made sense. He’d demonstrated how to summon a demon familiar not even the last week. He had a contract with kin of rot, and some of that scent stuck to him, no matter if he had a familiar summoned or not. And while that fact tended to distract her on most days they had class with Neuhaus, it was particularly bad that day.

_Naeberius aren’t that uncommon kin of rot, and it’s not like they’re an exclusive contract, either. But when one happens to show up at school where I _know_ Vati has barriers up, then I’m gonna call foul._

“Oi, Whiskey, come on.”

Blinking, Whiskey leaned back to see Ruma about to poke her with a pencil. Mocha was standing nearby, and it seemed that Moriyama was with them. They’d been dismissed for their lunch break, and she hadn’t even noticed. “Did Whiskey-chan actually space out in class?” Mocha asked with a mock gasp. “Kamiki was out of it, too. It’s the end of the world!”

“Oh, hush.” Trying to ignore the blank places in her notes where she’d meant to fill in answers to some of her questions, Whiskey worked on packing up her things. Neuhaus had already left the room, but the memory of the smell still stuck with her. _Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but I think that’s too much of a coincidence. If I had a way to check it, though—Ah. _“Hey, Ruma, do you mind if I check something with your familiar while we’re eating?”

“Hm?” Ruma raised an eyebrow. “You know that I don’t mind, but you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that before we get started. I’m pretty sure Satis won’t appreciate me calling her up just to do whatever.”

Whiskey nodded, swinging her freshly packed bag over her shoulder. “I’ll explain after we get some food in us.” She looked over Mocha and Ruma, and then Moriyama alongside them. _Well, better late than never._ “Moriyama-san, do you want to come with us?” Whiskey owed it to the girl to at least get to know her better, plus it was the preferable alternative to leaving her to try and follow along with Kamiki.

Moriyama’s face exploded in such a genuine smile that Whiskey had to question why she’d ever even had a negative thought about the girl. “Of course, I’d like that a lot! Oh, if you want to check whatever it is with Nii-chan, too, I’m sure that he doesn’t mind!” At the sound of its name, the tiny greenman poked its head out of Moriyama’s hair.

“_Ni!”_

“That’d be great if you don’t mind,” Whiskey said. The more opportunities she had to test out the connection between familiars and her Submission, the more grounds she’d have before she went out and made any accusations. _After that, the only problem is figuring out what to do if I’m right._

Whiskey ignored the question in favor of following Ruma’s insistence that they go and get some lunch.

* * *

_Yeah, this was a stupid plan. I’m way out of my league._

After explaining that she wanted to check if it was possible the naeberius from the previous night’s attack might have been from a summon (as well as a brief explanation to Moriyama about how the relevant bits of her Submission worked), Whiskey had full permission to run a few checks on her friends’ familiars. She’d eaten faster than the others, who were watching from their perches on the cram school courtyard fountain, and mentally steeled herself for intentionally dragging something back into her Submission again. The edges had stopped burning within the past week, so that wasn’t an issue.

_I just kind of forgot how high ranking Satis is…_

It wasn’t a difficult feat, but the antelope easily reached a height taller than Whiskey’s even without accounting for her antlers. Size didn’t have much to do with Whiskey’s problem, though—Satis was a powerful demon, enough so that her kin of earth designation didn’t rely as much on the power of that grouping’s King as others of its kind would. It was a miracle that a beginner Tamer like Ruma had managed to summon Satis on her first time, and it would be a bigger miracle if Whiskey could get such an old being inside her Submission without a fuss.

Satis let out a huff of air that Whiskey heard as the chuckle the antelope demon had intended it to be. _“You are right, Kin of Time and Space. Even a direct descendant like you is a fledgling in power compared to me.”_ Whiskey swallowed, but the lump in her throat didn’t disappear. Her lineage was apparently that obvious, but Satis showed no signs of quailing at the gap in hierarchy, instead letting out another melodious chuckle. _“There is no reason to fret, though. Ruma thinks highly of you, and I understand that you want to learn something to protect those dear to you, is that right?”_

Glad for an amicable conversation, Whiskey nodded and remembered the negotiation lessons that Vati had put her through. “I think that we’ve been attacked by a demon on a Tamer’s orders, but I don’t have any proof. However, if I can confirm whether or not one of my abilities works on familiars or not, I’ll have at least a starting point to further consider.”

“Is Faust-san talking to your familiar, Izona-san?” Moriyama asked, her whispered voice not quiet enough for Whiskey to miss it. Satis’s long ears also twitched.

Ruma nodded, her mouth half full with some mishmash or another of her lunch. “Yeah. She can talk to them pretty easy. Super useful.”

A fresh lump formed in Whiskey’s throat—but Moriyama had a look of vapid interest on her face. “That’s amazing! I wonder if I could talk to Nii-chan like that someday!”

“Nii?”

A disproportionate amount of worry evaporated from Whiskey’s mind at Moriyama’s positive reaction, and she didn’t miss the almost interrogative look in Satis’s round and deep brown eyes. _“You have much to learn about your standing, fledgling Kin of Space and Time,”_ the antelope said. Whiskey didn’t bother to deny the sentiment, seeing as it was right. _“But I’m intrigued by this ability of yours. What kind of powers have you inherited?”_

Feeling distinctly glad that the others couldn’t hear Satis’s half of the conversation, Whiskey cleared her throat before releasing a few of the stray coal tars still floating around in her Submission. The too-familiar purple haze seeped into the air, letting the demons float free before taking them back in. “With your permission, I’d like to see if it’s your familiar bond with Ruma-chan that will prevent you from heading inside. Normally, I would need to overpower you to bring you in, but I know I’m not that powerful. If I do succeed, it’ll debunk my theory, and I’ll release you immediately.”

Ruma tried to say something that was lost in the mouthful of food she had at the moment. Mocha raised her hand and offered a translation: “Ruma-chan says you can trust Whiskey-chan, Satis-sama!”

Satis’s silky laugher had an undeniable hint of amusement. _“You are wise to know you wouldn’t be able to contain me with your own capability—even if you could bring me in, I would have no trouble freeing myself.”_ Whiskey repressed the shudder at the idea of a higher level demon ripping its way from her soul, but a phantom pain from her release in the rainforest almost tore across her heart. _“But if this is for the sake of keeping my new Tamer safe, I won’t complain. It’s been some time since someone has been able to summon me to Assiah, and I’d rather not waste the opportunity.”_

While Vati would have pressed forward without pause, Whiskey knew that, even as his daughter, she didn’t have the status to back up that sort of attitude—and even if she did, Satis was due her thanks for helping. Whiskey dipped her head in a short bow. “Thank you for helping me keep my friends safe.”

_“It is so interesting to see one of your kind humbling yourself. No matter; do as you intended.”_

Focusing on the task at hand, Whiskey sucked in a breath and stepped forward, a hand extended. Satis stepped closer as well, sharp hoofbeats against the cobblestones, and tucked her soft muzzle into Whiskey’s palm. Unable to take Satis’s watchful gaze, Whiskey shut her eyes and focused, easing open the doors enough to guide the antelope in without letting any of the stray minor demons inside of her out.

_Submit._

There was a pulse of her power, but a faint resistance resounded, though Whiskey was inviting Satis in and not forcing the connection at all. Satis wasn’t fighting it, either, and Whiskey pushed a bit harder, just to see what would happen, and she got the tug of her Submission snapping back to like a rubber band, and she grimaced.

_Haven’t felt that in a while._

Giving it up for broke, Whiskey pulled her hand away, letting her powers settle. “No good,” she said, reporting to her watching friends. Ruma, Mocha, and Shiemi all looked thoughtful, and Whiskey dipped her head again to Satis. “Sorry for dragging you out here for an experiment.”

_“No need to apologize. I’ll find my own reward.”_ And with that proclamation, Satis trotted back to Ruma’s side and dipped her noise towards her Tamer’s bento. Whiskey allowed herself a smile. “Moriyama-san, would you mind if I borrowed Nii-chan for a moment? I’d rather have another result to compare it to.”

“Oh, yes, that’s fine! Go ahead, Nii-chan. Pheles-san is nice; you can trust her.”

Whiskey decided not to mention that she’d thrown an emotional fit over Moriyama not even a few weeks ago and opened up her palm for the baby greenman to land in it. Not even seven centimeters tall, the demon’s body felt like soft moss, along with flowers sprouting for eyes and a curled leaf for a hat—there wasn’t anything overtly intimidating about the familiar. While Whiskey knew better than to underestimate Nii’s potential, she also knew that it wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as Satis was. She’d pulled larger greenmen into her submission before, and she could do it again.

“Alright, here we go.” Feeling much more confident than her last attempt, Whiskey pulled open the doors of Submission and tugged. The violet aura seeped out of her palm, snaking its way around Nii—and then melted away, leaving its intended target be. Her little demonstration with the coal tar earlier proved that it wasn’t an issue with her abilities. “Ah, dammit.”

“You okay, Whiskey-chan?” Mocha asked, her chopsticks extended out to Satis in a small offering.

“I just don’t like the implications of this at all.” Whiskey walked back to the fountain, offering Nii back to Moriyama, and the greenman leapt back towards his Tamer. Whiskey ran a hand through her bangs. “I’m willing to bet that naeberius had a Tamer.”

Moriyama gasped, covering her mouth, while Mocha’s eyes went wide. Ruma, on the other hand, went straight for a scowl, leaning forward in her seat. “You mean an _exorcist_ did this?” she asked, sounding more pissed off than scared, though Whiskey knew both emotions were present.

“Yes, more than likely.” _And I can’t tell you who I think it is, because I don’t have any proof._ Ruma and Mocha had gone through enough already, and Moriyama, while the daughter of a shopkeeper that tended to exorcists, was so very new to their world. None of them understood the things that could happen, even among the Knights of the True Cross, and Whiskey planned to keep things that way. “If that’s what happened, Vati can take care of things.” She dug her cell phone from her pocket, showing it in an indication that she was going to step away. “I’m going to report this to him. He’ll sort out everything without a hitch.”

Whiskey felt grateful that no one questioned why she was going to her father rather than directly to a teacher. Feeling exhausted already, Whiskey stepped to an empty space of the courtyard and dialed her father’s number.

His voicemail message greeted her, and she swallowed down the sense of unease in her stomach. It was important. Vati wouldn’t just let it go; he probably was just caught up in some paperwork or even a game or something. She just had to be patient. Keeping her voice calm, Whiskey recounted what she’d experienced last night, the results of her experiment, and her suspicions.

It still didn’t feel like enough.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exwire Exam? Exwire Exam.

**Ordinary Life**

By: Aviantei

Chapter Sixteen

* * *

Whiskey never got the chance to check to see if Vati had called her back, since Kamiki and Suguro decided that they needed to have some pissing match or what the fuck ever in the middle of Scripture Recitation Spells, including tossing some blows at each other, and _that_ debacle had led to every single member of their cram school course back in the dorm, in the seiza position, with goddamn _bariyons_ on their laps as a form of collective punishment.

“You stay here, cool off, and get _along_ until I get back in three hours,” Yukio had said with a smile before heading out, locking the door, and leaving the room of teenagers to stew in their punishment. Suguro and Kamiki didn’t waste much time in bickering again, despite Miwa’s attempts at interference.

_I very much think that I would like to murder absolutely everything right now._

As if in response to her thoughts, the rock demon in her lap increased in weight again, and Whiskey bit back a groan. Technically, with her Submission, she could easily get rid of the thing and not have to put up with it, but she had the feeling that Yukio would know if she cheated her way out of it. Besides, as obnoxious as the situation was, the punishment was sound; exorcists needed to be able to cooperate, and if those two didn’t go ahead and learn their lesson, they’d be in shit ton of trouble down the line.

_Still doesn’t make this suck any less, though. _Not even bothering to try and move her legs (since the bariyon _so_ wasn’t going to let that happen), Whiskey turned her torso as best he could to face Mocha and Ruma. “Mocha-chan, I challenge you to Shiratori. You can pick whatever weird restrictions you want,” she said. They needed _some_ way to pass the time, and Whiskey wasn’t about to make a phone call to her father about a potential traitor in the school with everyone else around. “Moriyama-san, do you want to join?”

Moriyama’s expression flickered between interested and pure worry. “I-I don’t mind, but wouldn’t it be better to…” Her leaf green eyes drifted over to Suguro and Izumo, who were still snipping at each other.

“Collective responsibility or no, it’s not our job to stop them from fighting.” Even so, Whiskey felt bad for Rin being stuck in the middle of it again. “They’re not going to learn to cooperate if we force them. Trust me, it’s better this way.” For all she admired the protagonist trope of fixing everything with a few well-placed words, Whiskey wasn’t charismatic enough to pull something like that off. “The sooner we start playing, the sooner we can start ignoring them, so—”

The lights went out.

Whiskey’s eyes adjusted to the darkness far faster than anyone else could manage, and everyone’s unnerved voices rang out in confusion. The weight of the bariyon vanished from her lap, and she was able to stumble out of the way on numb legs as Kamiki half-kicked Miwa across the room kin her panic. There were still lights on outside, and they helped Whiskey quickly survey the room as she rested her hands on both Mocha’s and Ruma’s shoulders. They both tensed at the touch, but Ruma managed to catch onto Mocha’s hand in an extra show of reassurance, and Mocha managed to snatch onto the front of Whiskey’s shirt.

Shima managed to turn on his phone’s flashlight function first.

That was enough to reestablish a sense of moderate calm, and everyone else that could went for their phones as well. Soon, they had a collection of miniature spotlights floating in the air. While the others debated what had just happened, Whiskey scanned over her classmates one more time, relived that no one was hurt, save for some emotional ruffling.

“Let’s look out in the hall,” Shima said, heading to do just that and laughing even after Miwa’s warning. “I like stuff like this. It’s a real test of courage…”

_The scent of kin of rot—_

“Shima, move!”

Shima attempted to slam the door shut, but the naeberius on the other end smashed through it with a shattering of splinters. Shima managed to get out of it unharmed, and Whiskey was already pushing Mocha and Ruma behind her and charging forward with a snarl. The panic had spread between everyone else, and Whiskey grimaced as she saw one of the sacks on the demon’s body start to expand and bulge. “Moriyama-san!”

“Nii-chan! Oona-oona, quick!”

Whiskey wasn’t sure what the hell “oona-oona” was supposed to be, but it quickly became apparent that her familiar understood as it grew a whole bramble of tree branches from its body, blocking the entrance and keeping the enemy demon at bay. Some of its attack still made it through, though, a dark and foul sulfur-smelling liquid splattering through the air. Whiskey grimaced at the sting, but the sensation started to fade after a few moments. The others, though…

_Not quite as bad as a direct attack from a ghoul, so it shouldn’t be at risk for necrotizing, but it’s still going to make them feel sick…_ “Mocha-chan. Ruma. You two doing okay?”

“Doing _great_,” Ruma said with a heavy layer of sarcasm. “I managed to keep Mocha-chan from taking too much of it, but this still sucks. I wanna puke.”

Whiskey shared that sentiment; the odor of the naeberius was pungent, all the more so since there were two of the damn things, and the combined fact that one of their _teachers_ had probably set them on them didn’t help the nausea in her stomach. The power was out, so they couldn’t rely on the lights to help weaken the demons, and after taking splash of the ghoul fluid, Moriyama’s barrier would only hold up for so long. Rin wasn’t having any luck reaching Yukio, and Whiskey doubted that any attempts to contact Vati would go any better. _I can’t even use Submission on these things, then…_

“I’ll go out and draw them off,” Rin said, before Whiskey could even begin to put together a proper strategy. “If they both follow me, run away. If they _don’t_ follow me, I’ll get help or turn on the power.” Suguro and Miwa both protested near immediately, but Whiskey had to admit it was probably the best bet they had. If he went off on his own, then Rin could fight freely without showing off his half-demon status to anyone else, and how he’d handled the night before meant he was had enough regenerative capability to not come out of the conflict worse for wear.

“I’ll come with you, then,” Whiskey said, sending up several more protests from the others. “What, do any of you have a better idea? I’ve at least _had_ some combat experience before.” It all sucked, sure, but like hell if she wasn’t about to put it to use.

“_Yeah_,” Suguro said, the faint outline of a vein pulsing in his forehead, “we _don’t_ split up and put our heads together to do something that _isn’t_ a suicide mission—”

“Good luck telling Rin-kun that.” He’d slipped out into the hallway while everyone else was bickering, and, based on the smell alone, one of the ghouls had followed him. Suguro spluttered in indignation, and Whiskey took the opportunity to weave through the available gaps in Moriyama’s summoned tree. “We’ll take care of things out here. Ruma, if something goes wrong, call me. Keep Mocha-chan safe.”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice!”

Suguro started to voice a fresh protest, but Whiskey didn’t bother to listen to it. She’d already wormed her way through Moriyama’s tree branches and her feet slammed into the hallway floor. One of the demons had taken off after Rin, and the pulse of his demonic fire was clear from farther away in the dorm, since he was free to use his powers without any of their classmates watching. Whiskey shifted into a battle stance and let some of her own demonic aura pulse out into the world, catching the naeberius’s attention.

“Looks like it’s me and you. Wanna tell me who your master is and get this over with?”

The naeberius groaned, a foul wave of its sulfuric breath washing over Whiskey’s noise. **“You are…not the one…my master…wants…”**

“Too bad, ‘cause I’m the one you—what the—?!”

Whiskey’s eyes easily caught the flash of white in the dark, but not with enough warning to dodge out of the way. The impact struck hard into her head, sending her tumbling over, and she clawed at the floor for some purchase, feeling the wood give way beneath her extended nails. She managed to not slam into any walls, but there was enough distance that the remaining naeberius took advantage of her absence to work its way back into the room with the others. Whiskey pushed herself up to charge towards it, but soon the demon that had hit her made itself apparent as a small white shape rushed towards her.

_Is that another fucking—?!_

A pseudo-Galatea almost kicked Whiskey in the face, and she swiped back at it. Somehow, another one of the stupid demons had made its way into the school, and it was showing up at the absolute worst time that Whiskey could think of. Even worse, if her past experience was anything to go by, there wasn’t any reasoning with the damn thing, other than trying to pull it into Submission and hoping for the best.

Frustration fueling her more than anything else, Whiskey clicked her tongue and launched herself back onto her feet, regaining her balance just in time to dodge out of the way of the latest blow. Looking at the demon, this one didn’t have a small weapon, instead wielding what looked closer to a club in a color dark enough to blend into the shadows.

_Yeah, that’s gonna be a bitch to deal with._ Not wanting to take any more chances, Whiskey pushed even harder on her demonic aura, sharpening her senses even further, so that she could hear any incoming movements and taste the differences in the air. A vaguely ashy taste wandered into her mouth even though the naeberius’s odor, accompanied by a pulse of demonic activity that flared up in the distance, likely Rin dealing with his own enemy. _Alright. Enough thinking, Whiskey. Move._

Not even waiting for the pseudo-galatea to make a move, Whiskey dove forward, claws extended and flashing out in a strike. The demon countered with a swing from its own weapon, intercepting Whiskey’s right wrist with a blow hard enough to send a fierce needle of pain up her arm and a crack of snapping bone to her ears. The pain was nothing, especially since it started to heal right away, and Whiskey aimed a low, sweeping kick at the pseudo-galatea in retaliation.

She landed a glancing blow, which upset the demon’s balance, but not enough to stop it from leaping up into the air. Whiskey crossed her arms in a block, planning to use the moment when the pseudo-galatea was close to activate her Submission, but she’d misread the blow. The demon hadn’t been aiming for her.

Instead, it smashed its weapon into the floor, and the sound of splintering wood that followed was almost deafening to Whiskey’s sensitive ears.

The floorboards beneath her feet gave out, and Whiskey fell into the darkened hallway waiting below.

* * *

Ruma really fucking wished she had her bat with her.

Okay, so she wasn’t sure how well even a metal bat would do against the damn demon that was hounding them, but it would have helped to get her in the right mental state to deal with trouble. As things were, she was in trapped in a room in the dark with no easy way to call for help, a frightened Mocha, and a bunch of other kids who were acting like they’d never seen a fight in their life. To add a cherry on top, Whiskey—who most easily knew what she was doing when it came to fighting demons—was gone, which limited their options.

_Dammit, get it together. I can’t go around relying on Whiskey all the time._ Shoving her hands into her pockets, Ruma felt around for the summoning circles she’d stuffed away. _So I’ll do what I can—_

“_I call upon the guardians of the river and harvest to bring me aid!_”

The air shifted and Ruma felt the pull of her energy slip away, making way for Satis to land on an unoccupied area of the floor. Satis turned her head in an instant to the naeberius behind the wall of plants and let out what seemed to be an irritated snort.

“Satis, can you make sure that thing doesn’t get any closer?” The antelope tossed her head as if Ruma’s question was an insult and stomped on the ground, adding more vines to the shield Moriyama had put up. Ruma looked back to check on Mocha, who was taking several deep breaths, and then to the others. “If the rest of you have any great ideas for us getting out of this alive, I’d love to hear them!”

“Ugh, dammit, fine. Like I’m just gonna stand here!” Suguro said, stepping forward. “I’ll beat it with an Aria!”

Shima looked exasperated. “But you don’t know its death verse.”

Ruma had to give it Suguro, he didn’t back down. “All the ones for ghouls are in the gospel of John. I’ve memorized the whole book, so I’m bound to come across it sometime.”

“The whole book? That’s more than twenty chapters!”

“Twenty-one, to be exact,” Miwa said, looking smaller than usual still hunched over on the floor. “I’ve memorized up through chapter ten. Let me help.”

“Me, too.” Mocha’s voice was shaky, but she’d balled her hand into fists and stepped forward. Ruma smiled, even if her expression probably didn’t make it through the dark. “I’ve only practiced enough to memorize the first two books and some of the third, but it’s better than nothing!”

“Now just hold on a second!” Kamiki, her usual bluster disappeared, looked stiffer than Ruma had ever seen her. “Once you all start, it’ll focus on you. There’s no way you’ll get to its death verse in time. This isn’t going to work!”

Ruma scoffed. “Do _you _have any better ideas?” Kamiki’s flinch was all the answer Ruma needed to plow forward. “It’s either we sit around and wait for our familiars to give out or we _do_ something. You have no fucking right to talk down on other people if you can’t even stand up and fight. So if you wanna cower in a corner and wait to die, then _fine._ Just stay the hell out of the way of the rest of us!”

Kamiki dropped her head, but Ruma didn’t feel any guilt. She’d had to learn that lesson, too, and in a much harder way than Kamiki was having to put up with. Ruma had resolved to be strong—for real, and not in the fake way she’d tried before.

_I don’t want to feel hopeless like that ever again._

_I don’t want to watch Mocha cry and not be able to do anything about it._

_I don’t want Whiskey to have to carry everything by herself anymore._

“Alright!” Ruma shouted, moving up to stand by Moriyama as Mocha, Suguro, and Miwa all settled down further back to start chanting. The naeberius clamored and tore at the plants serving as a barrier, the rough sounds scraping through the air. “Let’s do this shit!”

* * *

Whiskey slammed into the ground of the fifth floor with enough force to make her body bounce back into the air. Those precious seconds cost her when it came to dodging the pseudo-Galatea’s next blow, and she had only half rolled out of the way before the club slammed into her leg, the splinter of bone shooting all the way through her thigh and dragging a moan of pain from between her lips. The amount of force it took to break a bone when she’d released so much of her demonic aura was astounding. Where the last pseudo-Galatea had a style that focused more on dexterity, it was obvious this one cared to show its superiority through strength.

_Not like this is the worst shit I’ve ever been through, though!_

Broken leg or not, Whiskey was still able to pull herself to her feet. The blend of adrenaline and demonic healing blurred the pain away to a haze, and she could feel the sensation of her incisors extending long enough to prick into her lips. It didn’t matter. The time for handling the situation gracefully had long passed.

_If you want brute force, I’ll give you brute force!_

Whiskey reset her position and then let out her suppressed demonic ability. Her tail lashed free from its hiding place beneath her shirt, and her nails and ears grew out even further. The demon stilled for a moment, sensing the shift in pressure. If it had thought it could get the advantage on Whiskey by isolating her, it had another thing coming.

Following her instincts, Whiskey pounced at the lull in the pseudo Galatea’s movements. It tried to retaliate, but the full arc of the swing of its club took too long, and Whiskey had already latched her claws into its torso. Her unoccupied hand went for the club, managing to yank it out of the demon’s momentarily unsteady grip, and it sailed through the dark before landing further down the hall in a series of chaotic thumps.

Whiskey felt her grin go wide enough to bare her teeth and _snarled_.

“_Submit._”

The pseudo-Galatea might have struggled, but Whiskey had enough of an upper hand that it fell prey to her ability in seconds. It didn’t even hurt to open up the doors to her Submission with how far she’d dove into her abilities. Her fist continued to clench on empty air, and she exhaled before prying her fingers open. That was one enemy down, and Rin’s fiery presence had calmed down a bit in the distance, so he must’ve taken care of his target as well.

The lights flicked back on.

Several more presences Whiskey hadn’t noticed before became very obvious in her senses, along with one all too familiar scent, even from a distance.

“Vati?”


End file.
